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sanchoyo · 3 years

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danny phantom season 2, episode 17-20 thoughts! finishing up season two! the finale is the THIRD 2-PARTER OF SEASON 2. that's so many! I wonder how many season 3 will have?

see prev episode thoughts in this tag <3

-UERGH WHY DOES VLAD HAVE AN AI WITH MADDIE'S FACE ON IT. SOOO CREEPY. AND MORE 'CREATIONS' waiiiit. vlad is Dr. Frankenstein! (despite his ghost design obviously referencing vampires) HE HAS 'CREATIONS' HE MAKES THEN WONT TAKE REAL RESPONSIBILITY FOR!!! this bitch.

-danny was late and his friends immediately start going off about how hes inconsiderate, and has been treating them like sidekicks??? he just overslept, my god. chill. even if he has, be nicer about talking about it with him?? he really can't help that he sometimes has to chase the ghosts, or has a secret identity to protect...

-'what kind of ghost haunts a miniature golf course' umm. me as a ghost. next question

-imagine going home and theres a tiny child on your bed claiming to be your cousin. with as many cousins I have, I would probably believe her. but the 'ran away from home' BIT....SHES 12?? SHES SO TINY. I hate that they have her belly out in her ghost form, but I like how her colors are asymmetrical. something about her design...maybe the proportions?? are weird to me...anyway danny was good to feed her, but he shouldve taken her to his parents FIRST. or, tbh, probably jazz. (JAZZ DIDNT EVEN GET TO MEET HER!!! NOOO. I mean she said she'll be BACK BUT STILL)

-ANYWAY. shes voiced by AnnaSophia Robb, the girl who was in because of winn dixie, played as violet from charlie and the chocolate factory, and was the girl from bridge to terrabithia. (the movie that made me cry hysterically when I was 12 and I never watched it again because it Broke Me!) thats super cool.

-vlad sucks: the episode, basically. what's new!! I love how he's like, I'm Not A Villain. *immediately cuts to him torturing danny to make him transform, to get mid-transformation DNA, to perfect a Clone.* *immediately shows that he doesnt give a shit about his new daughter Dani and just wants a ''more perfect clone'' and will put her in danger to get that. will let her DIE to get that*

-Dani is danny's clone and is a girl? transgenderism....one of them has to be trans. or they both are.

-dani just. leaving at the end. WHAT? SHES 12. DONT JUST. NO!!! SHE WAS PROBABLY JUST BORN, A MONTH AGO AT MOST, RIGHT?? SHE NEEDS...SOMEWHERE TO LIVE. MONEY? FOOD?? A FAMILY?? AN EDUCATION???! WHAT DO YOU MEAN SHE'S LEAVING!!! OKAY BYE I GUESS!!! D: concern!!!

-the next ep opens with skulker chasing a ghost down. ...does skulker count as a ghost hunter in the way valerie and danny do? I mean, sure, he hunts the good guys too, but he. he hunts ghosts...also, we haven't seen his Real Form since his debut episode! tiny...

-the guys in white are back! ngl, I assumed they were a gag for that one episode. you're telling me they might actually be a threat? ok.

-valerie in her lil nasty burger uniform looks so cute!! glad shes not in that mascot uniform this time. I guess she stopped hiding that she's working there now?

-gregor having white hair, dressed in black and white...and green eyes...sam has a Type, I guess.

-danny being unnecessarily hostile about gregor. danny!!! hes been nice so far. he looks a little...tall to be 14, but. danny doesnt know anything about him! (he does Suspect, but...you cant just spy on people and be rude to them from a hunch.) also, gregor kissed her, and when she freaked out, he was like 'oh no!! sorry, we can take it slow! I understand!' which was NICE. I hate jealousy plots still tho.

-altho. umm. tucker, being concerned about danny spying on them??? SAM AND YOU WERE SPYING ON DANNY AND VALERIE A FEW EPISODES AGO!!!!! im not saying its RIGHT, but dont be a hypocrite!!! AND THEN SAM BEING MAD ABOUT IT, TOO.

-DANNY IS A 7 ON THE SCALE OF ECTOPLASMIC POWER!!! out of 10? so I want to know where the other ghosts rank...I mean it's a list from the guys in white, so, it may not even be accurate, like, they havent seen ALL of his powers, have they?

-Lancer being like 'im not cooperating with the FEDS' until they said they could access his tax records. they already did that joke with jack, but like, its still funny. kings of tax evasion.

-tucker's aggressive third-wheeling. but gregor being super into it. gregor/tucker is the real ship here. then gregor kissing danny on both cheeks after hugging him. bi poly king gregor. (he does turn out to be a liar with a phoney accent. unsurprising, BUT THE CONCEPT OF HIM BEING GENUINE AND THEM ALL DATING IS FUN)

-THE...GUYS IN WHITE THINKING GREGOR IS DANNY PHANTOM. LMAOOO. GET HIS ASS. or,, Elliot. lmfao

-sam saying tucker is part of the package because theyre friends was super sweet <3 but also 'part of the package'...polyships are obviously the solution to these dumb jealousy/love triangle plots.

-danny crashed a whole plane. the collateral damage...

-is he....

-you know....

.... (ITS NOT GAY IF YOU'RE DOING IT TO PRETEND TO BE SOMEONE YOU'RE NOT, AND LIE TO A GIRL. RIGHT? he was getting a little too into pretending to enjoy tucker's company, and the above...c'mon, guy.)

-lmao, freakshow is in actual prison. I didn't expect a follow up, or for him to show back up! in the finale of this season, too!

-THE SICK TATTOO GHOST IS NAMED LYDIA!!! more Lore On her. freakshow seemed genuinely concerned about her. also, is she mute? I don't think she talked the first time we saw her, either. and we didn't know freakshow 'envied' ghosts, either, the first time, we just knew he was controlling them. interesting!

-...they literally stole the infinity gauntlet from marvel and called it the reality gauntlet. is that legal. what the fuck. even with the gems in the lil slots, having different powers...they had freakshow in jail, but didnt check his pockets??! hes just still in his lil outfit??? what kind of ...oh, its in amity park. yeah, all of the adults are idiots, okay, sure.

-'freakshow!' 'in the anemic flesh!' dude take some iron pills then. also, sure, the red eyes could be contacts for his aesthetic, but the whites of his eyes are yellow! does he have jaundice?! he severely needs more...like, every kind of vitamin. (this is what im worried about as freakshow attacks danny with giant robots)

-again, goth circus is a sick theme, and I love his goth train.

-oh FUCK every single person saw danny transform. on a stage. including his parents via TV. oh god. the guys in white and immediately like 'youre coming in for experiments!' SCARY. at least the crowd is willing to help him to escape...perks of now being a local celeb! even the kids at school are accepting :) this is what, the third time his family has found out? its always been an alt timeline tho. and danny fully intending to just rewrite things again instead of...I dunno, trying to roll with it this time? hes really worried his family won't accept him, huh...

-'maybe our son IS THE GHOST BOY, but its not as if our family's ghostly activities have EVER PUT YOUR FAMILIES IN DANGER' maddie. mmmmmmmmmmmm. okay.

-danny 100% prepared to run away from home because of this :( oh :( and saying his parents are 'looking for him, or a scalpel to dissect him with' ouch...

-THE GUYS IN WHITE TRYING TO ARREST A 14 YEAR OLD. fuck da feds.

-side note (another one about voice actors...) freakshow's voice actor, Jon Cryer, was lex luthor in pretty much every DC tv show, which is why I recognized his voice, because my dad loves those shows so I've seen a good bit of them without seeking them out...)

-the old man saying 'hey, i still had minutes left!' and danny saying 'you gotta watch those roaming charges!' about danny destroying the people in the diner's phones so no one could report seeing him...would kids today understand these things. can you even BUY minutes anymore...I remember my first phone being a flip phone, and the fact I always had minutes when my sister ran out super fast, because I didnt have friends calling or texting me like she did...:/

-the fentons being genuinely like 'why didnt danny trust us and tell us this, we love him :(' and JAZZ LAYING INTO THEM WITH THE 'DISSECTION/MOLECULE BY MOLECULE' LINES. LITERALLLLY. they need to apologize

-technically, lydias stronger than you! -jazz lesbianism moments! when did you even learn her name!!! but also get freakshows ass. lydia is also cooler looking. looove her design sm still.

-jazz psychoanalyzing freakshow... (also, her also having ghost envy? au where jazz is a ghost!! id like to see it)

-im glad the kids still got to go to their respective vacation things, even if they cant really stick around and enjoy them much...

-furry: confirmed. (also tucker calling her hot. tucker is a furry confirmed)

-danny being mad someone at the comic con is selling comics of him without permission, lmfao. give him his royalties!

-freakshow > thanos because hes a drama clown and does use his gauntlet to be FLASHY AND DRAMATIC.

-jazz's 'USE PYSCOLOGY' to danny about freakshow LMAOO. AND THEN IT WORKING. but, oh, freakshow's ghost form sucks. I like him as a clown better tbh. good thing danny took away his ghost powers!

-his parents hugging him and saying theyre proud :"( and saying 'of course you lied to us, we never gave you a reason not to!' and saying they were in the wrong basically for always talking about hurting ghosts aaaa :""(

-then he WIPED THEIR MEMORIES AGAIN!!! FUCK. I can understand him wiping the goverments/student bodies' memories, but why his parents?? they were being accepting!! ARGHHH. season 3 couldve been them all trying to adjust to them knowing!

-I know, on a meta level the showrunners probably wanted to just reset things to the status quo of him having a secret identity. But. We've been doing that for (2) seasons, I'd love if season 3 could be like, his parents adjusting to this and trying way harder to learn more and accept it (and the shenanigans that could come from that) and for fun, if he didn't wipe the students memories, it could be him being popular for a while, then everyone slowly realizing, oh, he's still Danny. Like. he might have ghost powers but hes Just The Same Guy instead of putting him on a pedestal (and seeing them all try and help him hide it from the giw/people who don't know!!)

-fuck they didn't even explain WHY he wiped everyone except sam, tucker and jazz's memories. he just Did It right when his parents were saying they loved/accepted him!! and sam and tucker didnt question it at all!!! HELLO??? very annoyed about this turn of events.

-anyway. onto season 3! I know its shorter than the first two seasons, and is the last season... I might just do it in 2 bursts if I can... :3c depends on the episodes' content and how much I want to say about each!

#sanchoyorambles #danny phantom #dp thoughts

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allegra-writes · 4 years

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The Intervention

Peter Parker x Stark!Reader

General audiences

Warnings: none

The Request:

Peter and Reader hanging out at the compound. They fall asleep together and Tony finds them. They insist they are just friends but have feelings for each other, even if themselves don't know it yet.

Tony ships it.

For @sovereignparker

MY MASTERLIST

Tony Stark was at his wits end.

He, who had built the first iron man prototype in a cave, invented time travel, and pretty much single handedly defeated Thanos and his army, didn't know what to do. And it was all your fault. Well, yours and Peter's, actually.

At first it had been… kind of cute. Endearing. The way you both were so obvious yet so oblivious. You and Peter had grown really close after the blip, a little too close, in fact: Always hanging out together, watching movies or playing video games, or just doing nothing. Tony had never seen Peter spend that much time at the compound before. And he was sure you definitely didn't use to hang at the lab so much before either.

Then had came the most noticeable signs, like you wearing Peter's hoodies and Peter sporting one of your hair ties on his wrist. Peter's ringtone for you was "Uptown girl" for fucks sake! (some stupid punk-pop cover, cause his protegee had no taste apparently).

It had all reached its zenith during that mission in Bahrain, where the enemy had managed to land a solid one on the quinjet and the whole team had been stuck on land for the night. They had been forced to pile up in this cheap hostel, all six in the same room. And there were enough beds for everybody but you and Peter had started fighting over the top bed of the bunk and it had been vicious. Until you both had agreed to share it, that was.

Every single one of the Avengers had been convinced you guys were a couple after that, including Tony. But the thing was, Peter Parker was shit at lying. And he insisted you and him were just friends, and he did look like he was telling the truth. So Tony had started looking through the security cameras, watching hours and hours of footage of Peter and you together. Pepper had scolded him, telling him what a horrible invasion of his firstborn's privacy it was, but the thing was there was nothing private there: No making out, no pda, NOTHING. Not even pecks on cheeks or hand holding.

So he had resigned to the fact that you and underoos were completely platonic.

Strangely enough, he had felt… disappointed.

"That's not strange at all, Tony. You love Peter like a son. Y/n dating him would be the perfect way for him to officially become a part of this family" Damn Pepper and her way to psychoanalyze him.

"Yeah well, apparently, when I wanna do that," Pepper raised an eyebrow at his husband's use of 'when', not 'if', "I'm going to have to adopt him. Cause I have to do everything in this house!"

The redhead rolled her eyes and went back to her book, leaving Tony to his brooding, blissfully ignorant to the ideas already taking shape in the billionaire's mind.

But for the first time in his life, nothing Tony did seemed to work. He had tried sending you notes from a secret admirer, but you knew Peter's handwriting. He had tried pairing you both at galas and balls, but you both had disappeared with Harley and that crazy socialite Kate Bishop for an impromptu shooting competition. He had even tried locking the both of you in a closet, but since the vulture guy incident Peter had developed claustrophobia and a panic attack wasn't very inducive to romance. Steve had drawn the line at sending you undercover as a couple on a fake mission.

"He just doesn't want to lose the bet" Clint had told him. Tony was too afraid to ask.

That's why he wasn't even surprised to find the both of you, asleep together on the couch that sunday morning. Oh no, what he was, was completely fed up. He walked past you, straight into the kitchen where the rest of the team was having breakfast, like a man on a mission, standing in front of the coffee maker, capturing every one's attention. He turned around, meeting Rodhey's eye.

"It's time"

That was all he had to say for the Avengers to leave their plates and cups where they were and stand up, following the man of iron back into the living room. They formed a semicircle in front of the couch, with Tony standing tall (or as tall as a man who was 5'7 could stand while surrounded by gods and giants and supersoldiers) and assertive in the middle.

Peter's tingle must have sense something was amiss because the boy immediately stirred.

"Oh, hey, mister Stark" He greeted, rubbing his eyes, voice hoarse from sleep and low, obviously trying not to disturb you, "sorry, we must've fallen asleep watching the movie.."

"Cut the bullshit, kid" Tony interrupted, unsmiling and straight to business, "this is an intervention"

"Wh-what?"

"We care about you and y/n very much," Clint continued, not giving him time to react, "but we can't go on like this any longer"

"This situation is hurting all of us, especially yourself, kid" Cap took over. Whatever this thing was, they had obviously rehearsed it, "There comes a time in every boy's life when he has to stand and take responsibility of his feelings like a man"

"So this is us, giving you an ultimatum," Bruce chimed in, "either you tell y/n how you feel…"

"Or we do" Thor finished.

What. In the everloving. Fuck?

"Guys, we're not… it's not… I-I'm not" Peter sputtered helplessly, very aware of what a light sleeper you were and how awkward things between you could turn if you heard this conversation. You were even shier than he was, even though you hid it better, and he didn't want anything to ruin your friendship, you were too precious to him. "I am not in love with y/n!" He whisper-yelled at last.

Tony crossed his arms, turning defensive.

"Why not? Is my daughter not good enough for the amazing Spider-Man?"

"What? No- I mean yes, I mean…" Peter sighed, rubbing his face with the hand not wrapped around you, still keeping you close to his chest throughout that whole… intervention debacle, "Your daughter is brilliant, and kind and amazing, and with all do respect mister Stark, she… well, she's hot! But not like in an objectifying kind of way, more in a she's really beautiful and I'm not blind kind of way and I don't care what the press says she is perfect and any body who can't see it is either blind or an idiot. If anything, I am not enough for her, but even so, I still want to be by her side because she's… because I…" Peter's rambling came to a halt, the boys eyes opening wide in horrified realization, "... Oh my god, holly shit, I'm in love with her, aren't I?!"

A chorus of "finally" and "duh!" and "it was about god damned time" filled the living room, as Tony repressed the urge to roll his eyes and instead smiled kindly at the teenager holding his older daughter in his arms. He used to think that the day he saw something like that he would have felt dread, or anger, or at the very least protectiveness. But he felt nothing of the sort: he felt… calmed. He knew you were in good hands. Maybe that was what was making the difference.

He patted the boy on the shoulder,

"Glad we could have this talk, underoos. Come on, team, I feel like getting donuts for breakfast. To celebrate, you know? Let's go get the jet!"

The room got emptied as quick as it had been occupied, leaving Peter stunned, his head a whirlwind of emotions. He was in love. With his best friend. With the most perfect girl he had ever seen.

With a girl in fact so perfect, so out of his league, he might as well have been playing a different sport.

His heart sank into his stomach, killing most of the butterflies nesting there, and severely maiming the rest. He was screwed. There was no way you would like him back, just… none. He looked down, maybe your peaceful sleeping face could bring some calm to his disturbed brain, you usually had a soothing effect on his nerves.

But your face wasn't peaceful, or sleeping. No, you were looking back at him with a thousand different emotions flickering behind those pretty doe eyes of yours.

He closed his eyes, as if that alone could deny the reality of that moment, the moment his world was sure to fall apart.

"You heard all of that, didn't you?"

"Yeah," You murmured, voice catching slightly in your throat, "yeah I did"

"Great. Awesome" he pinched the bridge of his nose with his free hand. He didn't want to ask this, he really didn't. But he had to know the answer. "Now what?"

Frozen in place, he felt you crawl over his body, until you were nose to nose with him.

"Now? I think now… we kiss" You breathed against his lips.

His heart skipped a beat. Right before starting running, galloping wildly, like an untamed horse.

Yeah, he liked that idea...

The end.

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amanda-teaches · 4 years

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Til Death Do Us Part? (1)

Series Summary: At a work party with your best friend, Dean, you panic when your new boss asks if you’re couple. Lying to protect your promotion, you wind up fake engaged before you can take it back. When Dean agrees to go along with your lie for a weekend retreat, you end up finding something neither of you had bargained for: love.

Pairing: AU Dean x Reader

Square filled: Fake Dating/Marriage for @spndeanbingo, Fake Marriage for @spngenrebingo, Mistaken for a couple for @spnfluffbingo, “He’s always been there for me through all my terrible relationships and shit, and I can tell him anything” for @spnquotebingo

Word Count: 2135

Warnings: A hint of future angst, some swearing, fluff

A/N: This is the first part of a little mini-series I’ve been working on. It will probably be around 3-4 parts, or more depending on how much fluffy cuteness I plop in the middle, but I’m pretty excited about it, so I wanted to share the first part with you all to see what you think. I hope you like it! Let me know! I haven’t finished writing yet, so you never know if your reactions may influence the series. ;)

Til Death Do Us Part? Masterlist

In the dead of the night, sitting on a deserted train station bench in the middle of the pouring rain, you finally felt safe enough to let yourself cry.

So, you sobbed. All alone, in the silky, golden evening gown that you’d felt so goddamn beautiful in, you sobbed, the tears running down your face and into your already-wet hair.

You pulled the note out of your pocket, watching as the words began to smear and run down the page.

To the Future Mrs. Winchester,

You look gorgeous tonight. Just like every night. Remember to save me a dance.

You closed your eyes and cried even harder, the sobs wracking your body. It wasn’t supposed to happen like this. It was all supposed to be fake, a means to an end, one friend helping another...

You weren’t supposed to fall in love.

Damn that Dean Winchester.

One week and two days earlier…

You opened up the dating app on your phone, and scrolled through the dozens of “hey, sexy” and “what r u wearing?” messages before closing it again in disgust. “Oh my God, what’s the point of this stupid thing?”

Your best friend, Francesca, plopped down on the couch beside you, a bowl of popcorn in her hands, and looked over at your phone with a smirk. “The wonderful world of online dating?”

“How did you ever guess?” you answered sarcastically, amusement softening your tone. “Geez, it’s crazy! For every nice guy I find, there’s like 100 creeps.”

“Hey, what happened to that one guy? The therapist?”

You groaned. “He tried to psychoanalyze me all night. Wound up crying on my shoulder over his repressed daddy issues.”

“The architect?”

“Drew up the plans for our dream house within the first 10 minutes of the date.”

“The musician?”

“Texted his ex the whole night.”

She laughed and shook her head. “God, am I glad that I’m married.” Then, she turned to you, tucking a leg underneath her. “Hey, when are you going to give up on this whole online dating thing and just go out with Dean?”

Rolling your eyes, you shook your head. “I’ve told you a thousand times. Dean and I are just friends.”

“Oh, sure,” she laughed. “Just friends who text everyday, spend hours on Facetime with each other, and act as each other’s emotional support systems. Y/N, you’re practically married. The only thing missing is the sex.”

“Francesca!” you cried, an undercurrent of laughter running through your voice. “We are not practically married. Look, I love Dean, he’s always been there for me through all my terrible relationships and shit, and I can tell him anything, but that’s all it is. We’re just friends, I swear.”

She looked at you for another moment, skepticism filling her eyes. “Mhmm, keep telling yourself that. I’m just saying, you could do a lot worse than Dean Winchester. You don’t snap him up now, someone else will. And, ‘just friends’ or not, Y/N, I can guarantee, if that happens, you’re gonna regret not going for it.”

She sat back, focusing on her popcorn and queueing up the movie for the night, but you stayed staring straight ahead, her words lingering in your head. You wanted Dean to be happy, to find someone, just like you were trying to. You wouldn’t regret that if it happened...right?

Picking up your phone again, you stared at the picture of you and Dean that lived on your lockscreen, a smile playing at the corners of your mouth. You were going to see him tomorrow. He was your “date” to a party your new boss was throwing to get to know everyone, but you’d only asked him because you didn’t want to go alone. He was always your plus one to these kinds of things, and vice versa. You both knew it was strictly as friends, there wasn’t anything more than that. Besides, you were sure that the two of you could never really work.

At least that’s what you kept telling yourself.

The sound of Dean’s Impala rumbling up to your house the next morning made your heartbeat a little faster than you were willing to admit. Closing your eyes, you took a deep breath to calm yourself and grabbed your purse and phone, heading towards the door. You were sitting in his passenger seat in no time at all, with him smiling at you from across the bench seat.

“Ready to impress the new boss?”

“Hell yeah,” you nodded. “Thanks for coming with me. I hate doing these things alone.”

“Course,” he replied, shifting the car into gear with an easy smile on your face. “You know how impressive I naturally am.”

“Mhmm,” you laughed, shaking your head slightly. He grinned and winked at you, pulling the car into the street on the way to the “garden party” as your boss was calling it.

You were expecting some sort of outdoor barbecue/picnic situation, but when Dean pulled up in front of the mini mansion the address led to, and you saw the valets parking the cars, you were glad you’d worn your nicest sun dress.

“Damn,” he whistled, under his breath, staring out the dashboard. “Who’s your new boss, Richie Rich?”

“Apparently,” you muttered, still in disbelief. “I was not expecting this when I woke up this morning.”

“But, good news,” Dean pointed out, stopping his car in the middle of the circular driveway. “I bet the free food’s gonna be out of this world.”

You laughed as Dean got out, rushing around to your side of the car to open the door for you. You smiled and thanked him, and, after watching him warn the valet to treat his baby better than his own mother, he escorted you inside, your arm intertwined with his. He whispered something that made you laugh again, and you leaned into him, whispering back, as if being this close was the most natural thing in the world. If only it was this easy with every other guy.

When you got to the backyard, Dean dropped your arm, making a beeline for the rows of white-linen tables stacked with food. You started to follow him, but, when you spotted your new boss out of the corner of your eye, you changed tactics, wanting to make a good impression on her before she was inundated with too many people.

“Clarissa, hi,” you stammered, a little awkwardly, once you reached her. “You have a beautiful home.”

“Thank you,” she said politely, turning to you. She studied you for a brief second before recognition registered, and her eyes lit up, a genuine smile replacing the formal one. “Oh! Y/N, right?”

“Uh, yes, yes!” You couldn’t believe she remembered your name already. Since you were one of four people vying for a coveted promotion at the company, this could be your big chance. “I’d really love to get a chance to talk with you about my thoughts on the Newman project.”

“Oh, of course, dear,” she humored you, dismissing the work talk by looking around. “Where did that nice young man that you came in with go?”

Your eyebrows furrowed. “Oh, Dean? He went to get us some food.”

“That’s so sweet of him. You’ve got yourself a good one there.”

“Oh no, we’re just…”

“You know,” she said, cutting you off. “There’s a couple’s retreat next weekend for some of the higher ups in the firm, a little bonding experience, so to say. There’s an open spot left. Maybe you and your young man could come?” She leaned in and gave you a conspiratorial wink. “We’d have plenty of time to talk more if you were there.”

“A couple’s retreat?” you repeated back, growing flustered. “But, Dean and I, we aren’t…”

She glanced at your ring finger. “Oh, dear, you two aren’t married yet. Such a shame. Unfortunately, the retreat is for married and engaged couples only.” She sighed, staring down at her mimosa. “Oh, I guess I’ll have to give Stuart your spot.”

Stuart? Oh, no way in hell. That guy had been gunning for your promotion for well over a year. You panicked, looking over at Dean, who’d piled two plates full of food over at the buffet. Watching him, you imagined your promotion flying away, and you blurted out the only hail mary you could think of. “Wait! Dean and I are engaged!”

Clarissa’s eyes widened with excitement. “Oh, really?! I didn’t see a ring, so I just assumed.”

“Oh, well,” you bluffed, struggling to think of a believable cover. “It’s all pretty recent, so the ring’s, uh, getting resized. But, yes, we’re engaged. Fully committed and engaged to be married.”

“That’s wonderful!” she exclaimed, clapping her hands. “Then, you two can come to the retreat next weekend! It’s up at the Mountview, all inclusive.”

You whistled under your breath. Damn, the Mountview. It cost like 1,000 a night to stay there. Suddenly, you realized what you were doing, and you knew this innocent little lie was spiraling way out of control.

“Actually…”

She waved you off, looking over your shoulder. “This is so great! I’ve heard really great things about you, Y/N. I can’t wait for you and your fiance to knock the socks off our executives. Now, if you’ll excuse me for just a second.”

Before you could stop her, she was gone, having spotted someone across the room. You were left standing alone, and, looking up, you spotted Dean smiling at you from across the lawn, holding up his plates of food triumphantly.

Oh God, were you screwed.

“YOU SAID WHAT?!”

You looked around for a second, putting your hand on his chest to quiet him. “Shh, someone might hear.”

“So fuckin’ what if they hear, Y/N! You told your boss we were engaged!”

“I know, I know,” you whispered. You grabbed Dean’s hand and pulled him further into the hallway off the doors to the backyard, so your argument would be blocked from where the party was still going on, in full swing. “I’m an idiot, okay? I fully admit that.”

He looked down at you and exhaled heavily, running his hand through his hair. “What the hell were you thinking?”

“I don’t know!” you sputtered, beginning to ramble. “She thought we were a couple, and I tried to explain we were just friends, but then she kept talking and talking, and the retreat was all BAM, Mountview! And, then, then, she wanted to invite Stuart, I mean Stuart, of all people, and I just panicked, and, I...”

“Okay, okay,” he chuckled, placing his hands firmly on your shoulders. “Chill before you pass out on me. Deep breaths.”

You closed your eyes and took a deep breath, leaning into him. He immediately wrapped his arms around you, the argument instantly forgotten, and pulled you into a warm, safe hug. “I’m so sorry…” you mumbled against his chest. “I just wanted that promotion so bad, I think I went a little crazy. I’ll go out there right now and tell her the truth.”

He sighed, his breath ghosting against your hair. “Maybe you shouldn’t.”

Pulling back, you looked up at him, puzzled. “What?”

“Well, you already told her we were engaged, and if you backtrack now, she’s going to think you’re a crazy liar. Besides, it’s only one weekend, right?”

“Wait, are you saying we should actually go? And, pretend to be engaged?”

His face split into an eager smile. “Yeah. We’re best friends, so we already know everything about each other. How hard can fake marriage be? We pretend to be engaged for a weekend, you get your promotion, then we ‘break up’ and decide we’re better off as friends. No one’s any wiser.”

You stared at him for a second, the ramifications of his plan running through your head. Francesca’s words came screaming back at you. “Y/N, you’re practically married. The only thing missing is the sex.” Dean was right, you did know everything about each other. How hard could it be to fake a relationship for a weekend. “Are you sure?” you asked sincerely. “I mean, really, really sure.”

He nodded, taking your hands in his and dropping to his knee with a dramatic flourish. “Y/N Y/L/N, will you fake marry me?”

You laughed looking down at him, the sight of his goofy grin instantly bringing a smile to your face. You nodded, agreeing, but, no matter how much you tried to ignore the voice in the back of your head, Francesca’s other words lingered. “You don’t snap him up now, someone else will. And, ‘just friends’ or not, Y/N, I can guarantee, if that happens, you’re gonna regret not going for it.”

Shit, you really were in over your head this time.

Forevers- @atc74 @babypieandwhiskey @be-amaziing @carryonmywaywardcaptain @deans-dirty-writer @deanwanddamons @deanwinchesterswitch @dolphincliffs @edgeofreality35 @emoryhemsworth @focusonspn @hannahindie @heyitscam99 @impala-dreamer @impandagrl @karikatz12481 @katymacsupernatural @maddiepants @masksandtruths @mrsdeanfuckingwinchester @mysterious-398 @ohmychuckitssamanddean @pinknerdpanda @roxyspearing @spnbaby-67 @squirrel-moose-winchester @wi-deangirl77 @wonderfulworldofwinchester

Dean Tags - @adoptdontshoppets @akshi8278 @alexwinchester23 @dean-winchesters-bacon @squirrelnotsam

#spndeanbingo #spngenrebingo #spnfluffbingo #spnquotebingo #dean winchester #dean winchester x reader #dean winchester fanfiction #dean x reader #new series #til death do us part?

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sanders-specs · 5 years

Note

Dunno if this counts as a main ship, since it technically isn't even Sanders Sides, but Remile (Remy[Sleep]/Emile Picani)?? Like pining, best friends Remile with a happy ending??? Pls consider. Thanks. If not, thanks anyway.

Childhood Friends

A/N: So…i don’t know how i feel about this? My writing, not the prompt This is the first time i’ve really written these characters so they’re not perfect. I just hope all you Remile fans enjoy it. Also I’m just going to put my general tag list on here, though if i need to make a separate one for non Sanders Sides stories just let me know.

Warnings: alcohol (they only get lightly tipsy) (if i need to add anything else, please let me know)

tag list: @irish-newzealand-idian-dutch @dan-yuna @tripleaaaqueer @lilbeanblr @helloisthisusernametaken @justanotherpurplebutterfly @alwaysmy-lilith @ilylogan @logically-trans @seas-space-and-stardust @generalfandomfabulousness @arentordinaryvillainsadorable @nico-holly

Remy strolled into the large office building, his bodyrelaxed and his messenger bag bouncing lightly against his leg. He leaned overthe reception desk and smiled at the secretary, pushing his sunglasses to thetop of his head. “Here to see Picani. You know the drill.”

The secretary—Judith, her nametag read—rolled her eyes. “Dr.Picani is currently in the middle of a session with a patient. I’ll let himknow you’re here when it is over.”

Remy groaned but he knew better than to argue—he didn’t blamethe people who needed Emile’s help, he just hated waiting. He sauntered intothe waiting room and slumped down in a chair, pulling out his phone to scrollthrough Tumblr while he waited.

“Do you know Dr. Picani?” someone in the waiting room asked. Remy looked up to see a kid decked out inmostly black and greys, complete with a little bit of eyeliner, watching him.

“You could say that,” Remy said. “We grew up together.”

The kid raised their eyebrows. “Wow…”

“What?”

“You just don’t strike me as a pair that would work together.”

Remy smirked. “Yeah, we get that a lot.”

“So uh, can I ask what his deal is with cartoons?”

Remy glanced over at them. Emile had been pretty clear thatin times like these he didn’t want Remy talking too much about him to hispatients. Then again, this question was something Remy was pretty used toanswering.

“He just likes cartoons,” Remy shrugged, “always has. Thesame way some people really like certain kinds of music or movies.”

The kid nodded, though Remy could tell that wasn’t theanswer they were hoping for. Oh well, that was all they were going to get.Emile didn’t like his patients knowing too much about him, or anything abouthim, really, unless they specifically asked, or it related to whatever issuesthe patient needed to work out. Something about it conflicted with work.

Just then, another kid (who was he kidding, these peoplewere probably around the same age as him, but just about everyone looked like akid to him) came down the hallway, Emile following behind them.

“I still stand by the fact that Inside Out is the best,” thepatient said.

“Clearly it’s Wall-E,” Emile said, shaking his head. He sawRemy, then and grinned. “Remy! Please tell this young man that Wall-E is thefar better Pixar movie.”

“Sorry doc, that goes to Ratatouille.”

“You’re biased because the main character has your name!”

“Hell yeah I am,” Remy said with a smirk.

“I like Brave,” eyeliner kid muttered.

Emile sighed. “You’re all crazy.”

“Says the psychologist,” Remy said, getting to his feet.

Emile only gave him a fond look before turning back to hispatient. “I’ll see you next month Kai, and maybe try re-watching a movie or two.”

Kai was already headed towards the door. “It’s not gonnachange my mind.” They called before leaving.

“Well it was worth a try,” Emile said, smoothly turning tothe other patient. “Elliot, I’ll be with you as soon as I finish filing awayKai’s notes.”

“I don’t have any place else to be.”

“…okay you’re being serious, I wasn’t sure for a moment.”

Remy cleared his throat. Emile looked at him. “And Remy,what can I do for you? As happy as I am to see you, I don’t really have muchtime…”

Remy held up a hand. “I know, I was on my way home from ajob and thought I’d stop by to give you this,” he handed Emile a Starbucks cupof hot chocolate, “and this,” he dug through his bag to find what he waslooking for. It was a Steven Universe blind bag, which he handed over to his excitedlooking friend.

Emile grinned. “Aw, thanks Rem!” he threw his arms aroundRemy, making the other boy blush.

“Ah, um, yeah, anything for you. thought you’d like it.Anyway, I should get going, let you get back to work.”

“Oh, come by later! We need to catch up.”

“Yeah, sounds good. See ya later doc.” Remy flicked hissunglasses back into place. “Later babes.” He shot finger guns at Judith andElliot before sauntering out of the building, whistling.

“Alright Elliot, what would you like to start with today?” Emileasked as he sat down in his chair and Elliot sat on the couch across from him.

“was that your boyfriend? That Remy guy?”

Emile looked up in surprise at that. “Remy? Oh, no, we’re justgood friends.”

“Oh. I was just asking because you kinda looked likeboyfriends.” Elliot shrugged, but there was a small almost knowing smirk ontheir face.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about Elliot. Buuuuuutspeaking of boyfriends, how are you and Mitchell?”

“Deflective much,” Elliot muttered.

“I could say the same to you.”

“Elliot…”

“I know, I know, sorry. Just saying.”

“Well i appreciate your concern, but we’re here to talk aboutyou. Now, let’s talk about why Brave is your favorite Pixar movie…”

After his last patient, Emile closed the door to his officeto finish up sorting through all his notes, though his mind wasn’t really onthe filing. He was thinking about Remy, and about what Elliot had said. Emilealways thought he was good at reading body language and tone, but Remy was alwaysso…complicated. Maybe it had something to do with the fact that they’d beenfriends for so long that Remy had learned how to evade Emile’s careful gaze.

Still, though, he would think that he would know if his bestfriend was interested in him romantically…right?

Emile bit his lip as he put away the last file, then startedgathering his things to go home.

It wasn’t like Emile didn’t like Remy, he did. they’d beenfriends for as long as he could remember, and it was probably around highschool when he realized how much he liked Remy. He hadn’t been able to talk tohim about it, though, since Remy had a boyfriend at the time. then they went tocollege and Emile focused entirely on getting his doctorate degree. That andusing his newfound freedom to buy every toy and plushie he’d ever wanted as achild.

Sighing, Emile slung his bag over his shoulder and walked outof the office.

Remy lounged on Emile’s couch, a glass of wine in hand. He’dbeen waiting for Emile to get home for at least an hour. He was tempted to callhim and ask what was taking so long, but that would defeat the purpose ofsurprising him.

Maybe coming to his house when he wasn’t there wasn’t thebest idea, but Remy had been bored at his apartment. Besides, it wasn’t likethis was a new thing. They had a habit of dropping by each other’s places somuch that they both just have a spare key. They hadn’t been able to visit for awhile, though, both of them being too busy. Sometimes, Remy hated that his jobmade him travel around a lot. He did miss his friend a lot when he was gone.

Remy sighed and closed his eyes. For a moment, he let hisconfident, sassy, façade drop. He was…very tired. He desperately needed sometime with his friend, even if being with said friend brings up weird,complicated feelings. Like how Remy’s heart had fluttered when Emile had huggedhim earlier, or how all Remy wanted to do was be with him.

Maybe he really was catching feelings for Emile, but he wasn’treally sure. Ever since his last breakup, he hadn’t really wanted to be withanybody else.

Suddenly, Remy heard a key in the lock. He sat up, slippinghis sunglasses over his eyes.

“Remy!” Emile exclaimed, coming in. “I thought that was yourcar. What are you doing here? Don’t you have work in the morning?”

“Nah, I rescheduled all my appointments tomorrow for anotherday. I need a personal day.”

“Personal days are important,” Emile said, nodding with approval.“Any reason why?”

Remy pushes his glasses down a little so he could look overthem at Emile. “Don’t try to psychoanalyze me doc.”

Emile laugh and throws his bag down beside the couch,plopping down next to him. “What, I can’t ask my friend what’s wrong?”

Remy smirked and pushed his glasses back up, sipping hiswine. “To answer your question, I’ve been trying to save up some money for anew place, so I’ve been working a lot.”

“Oh, finally?’

Remy rolled his eyes and lightly shoved Emile, who justlaughed. Remy took a swig of his wine, trying to ignore how much he reallyliked Emile’s laugh.

“Oh! Also, I thought we could have a movie night,” Remysaid, picking up the remote and turning the TV on, where a Disney logo was onpause.

Emile raised his eyebrows. “Let me guess, Ratatouille?”

“You know,” Remy smirked. “Mister Wall-E-is-the-best-Pixar-movie.You and I both know you don’t have a favorite. It’d be like picking your favoritechild.”

“But it is a good way to get patients to open up,” Emilesaid, pouring himself a glass of wine in the cup Remy had set out for him.

“I’ve taught you well,” Remy said, throwing an arm aroundhim and raising his glass.

Emile clinked his glass against Remy’s and leaned againsthim. “Don’t brag, I did go to school for this you know.”

“But how did we become friends?”

Emile just rolled his eyes. “Just play the movie.”

Chuckling, Remy did as he was told and pulled Emile closer againsthim, and he tried not to smile too much when Emile just snuggled against him.

About halfway through the movie, Emile sat up and paused it.He was feeling a little warm and fuzzy from the wine, and he had something hewanted to ask Remy.

“Everything okay? Why’d you pause it?” Remy asked. His cheekswere a little flushed too, though Emile doubted he was as tipsy as Emile was.

“Can I ask you something?” Emile asked, propping his chin onRemy’s shoulder.

“uh, yeah, sure, whatever you want,” Remy said, his cheeks reddeninga little.

“How come we never dated?”

Remy sat up at that, making Emile sit up too. “Where’s this comingfrom?”

“It’s been on my mind.”

Remy set down his glass and leaned back, his eyes stillhidden by his sunglasses, but Emile got the feeling that he was deep in thought.

“Well,” Remy started, “I never really knew if you wanted to.”

Emile tilted his head slightly. “And you were dating Jax.”

Remy frowned. “I dated Jax in high school…”

“And through college,” Emile propped his head on his hand. “Everyonethought you two would get married. And you loved each other. I know. I’m adoctor.”

Remy let out a small laugh. “Yeah…yeah I did love him youknow how it ended…”

“Yeah.” Jax had cheated on Remy, something that had surprisedjust about everyone.

“I guess the real question is, why didn’t you ever ask meout after Jax and I broke up?” Remy asked, resting his arm on the back of thecouch.

“Thought you didn’t like me.”

“Well I do.”

“You do?”

“Yeah.”

Emile sat up and leaned forward. He gently reached up and tookRemy’s sunglasses off of him. His eyes were wide and gave away just how nervousthe other boy was. “Can I kiss you?”

Remy leaned away a little. “Emile, maybe we should talk whenwe’re both more sober.”

Emile pouted. “I’m still plenty in control of my actions.”

“Still…”

“Are you scared?” Emile asked, smirking. Remy gulped. Emilegently took his hand and kissed it. “Don’t be. We can wait if you want. I’vewaited long enough for you.”

“Cheesy much?”

“Cheesy breezy.”

Remy chuckled. “Why don’t we finish the movie?”

“Mkay.”

Remy wrapped his arm around Emile and played the movie.

Two movies and a whole pizza later, Remy was gathering histhings to head home.

“You sure you’re good to drive?”

“The food sobered me up Milly I’m fine,” Remy said, rollinghis eyes.

“I’m just saying, you can stay here if you want.”

Remy smirked. “You sure that’s the only reason you want meto stay?”

Emile’s face flushed, which Remy had to admit was very, verycute.

He had to admit that he was more the pleased by theirearlier conversation. They’d spend the past few hours cuddling and commentatingon the movies, and just in general pretending they hadn’t just confessed theirfeelings fro each other while they’d both been a little tipsy.

“I’ll be fine,” Remy said, squeezing Emile’s arm. He turnedto go, but Emile caught his arm before he could take a single step away.

“I meant what I said earlier Rem,” He said, his eyesdowncast.

Remy smiled and stepped towards him, lifting his chin andpressing their lips together.

The kiss was sweet, and a little uncertain. This was new forboth of them, but somehow neither of them minded. They’d waited this long foreach other after all.

When they pulled away there was a huge grin on both of theirfaces.

“I think I could stay a little while longer,” Remy said witha smirk.

#remy sanders #sleep sanders #emile picani #cartoon therapy #remile #my fic #prompt #anon #tw alchohol

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elizabeth-234 · 5 years

Text

Whumptober 2019

Day Seven: Isolation

Read on AO3

Hi Friends! Hope your week started off well!

Day Six: Dragged Away

Summary: A young Peter Parker comes to live with Tony Stark. What happens with Tony is too haunted by his past to see a future that includes Peter?

It was eleven months since he moved into the tall building and Peter had only seen Mr. Stark a total of seventeen times. When Peter mentioned it to his nanny, the man’s eyes narrowed for a moment before congratulating him on counting that high.

His new home was huge and every time Peter explored he found something new. His nanny, Mr. Chi, couldn’t be there at all hours of the day and night to look after Peter so sometimes he was left to himself. Jarvis was always there if he needed help but Peter knew the rules. Rule seven stated that if a door wouldn’t open it meant he wasn’t allowed in. That was easy enough to follow because it enforced itself. The rest of the rooms were fair game to Peter and that was all he cared about. So much alone time meant boredom and his curious nature needed to be sated somehow.

He explored methodically, room by room, as the days went and took careful note to remember where he left off so the next day he could continue his way. Sometimes he ended up meeting people in his explorations. They would smile and sometimes, if they weren’t busy, would talk to him. Truth be told Peter looked forward to those times. He couldn’t wait to tell someone about what he discovered.

It was on such excursion that he met his friends, Ms. Pepper and Rhodey. They always made time for him though he knew they were busy and they never patronized him. Rhodey would greet and say goodbye to him with the warmest hugs. Ms. Pepper snuck him treats sometimes and helped him with his homework from Mr. Chi. Sometimes he wasn’t sure if he was exploring or trying to catch a glimpse of them.

Mr. Chi gave him homework to complete throughout the week and he was by far the person who Peter spent most of his time with but Mr. Chi was not his friend. It wasn’t that Peter didn’t like him, the boy was hard-pressed to find anybody to dislike, but there was a strict distinction between teacher and student. He diligently finished the work so that the man would be pleased with him.

The last person who remained was the one who took control of him when his parents died. Mr. Stark was also the person that Peter saw the least and wanted to the most. He was curious about the man who saved him from being alone. Who plucked him from darkness and took him to a magic tower. His dreams were the only things that were not affected by their new surrounding. No matter how much Peter wished it they were disturbed by shadows and when he woke up, heart pounding and sheets tangled, he was left with a deep longing for his family.

It was the anniversary of Peter coming to live in the Tower. It was also the anniversary of his parent’s deaths and Peter was not behaving today.

If asked, Mr. Chi would say that Peter was an unusually bright boy that, when applied, was a fast learner and overall nice person. If pressed for more Mr. Chi might say that there was something missing when the boy smiled. Something in the way his eyes hardly lit up contrasting heavily with the bright smile on his face.

Peter was not smiling today. He ran out of his lesson with Mr. Chi and, asking Jarvis not to let his teacher know where he was, found one of his favorite closets. Peter sat on a makeshift chair he fashioned out of an upturned bucket and stared at the door.

His head bent forward to rest on his crossed arms and Peter sat there in the dark.

Tony Stark’s day could not get any worse.

First a business deal fell apart. Of course, Pepper blamed it on the fact that he was late… and hangover. His life consisted of meeting after one more meeting and his mind was melted by the end of each day so he wasn’t sure what she expected.

All he wanted to do was go back to his floor, have a drink or two, and collapse for the night without any intrusions. He grimaced at the thought. No matter what his instructions were Jarvis insisted on informing him when the kid woke up from a nightmare and contrary to what the press thought Tony had a heart. He could hear the disapproval in the AI’s tone when Tony acknowledged but didn’t move from his floor.

What was he supposed to do? He wasn’t the kid’s father. No, his father was pushing up daisies on a hill somewhere. Tony wasn’t anyone’s father and didn’t know how to be. How could he be one when he never had one himself? If Tony were around more he would have felt awkward living with a child. As it was his own insecurities turned to annoyance at having to curb his life to fit the needs of some kid.

He tried, he would tell us, to welcome the kid into his life at first. The day after the boy came he had breakfast catered. A real smorgasbord spread out on the table for them only to have the boy stick his nose up and nibble at a piece of toast.

After that Tony let the boy stew and a week later he tried again. This time he took the kid to see a movie. Again, it did not go well and when the boy started crying, Tony realized that a crime movie wasn’t the best way to bond with a five year old whose parents were just murdered.

Frustrated and embarrassed Tony didn’t trust himself anymore but was too proud to ask for any advice. From that point he kept their interactions short and businesslike.

Every time he ran into the kid he was left confused. Tony was sure there was some type of vital translation errors between them because something would happen that would invariably confuse him. It happened last month when he came into one of the kid’s sessions with Mr. Chi. Tony stood at the back of the room shifting his feet back and forth and debated whether Mr. Chi was right. Would the kid want him there? He hadn’t seen Tony yet but was showing some type drawing he finished. Tony felt the breath rush out of him. There on the page was, if the misshapen facial hair was anything to go by, him. He was there with what looked to be all sorts of weeds around him and then in the corner Tony thought it looked like the kid. At least it was small enough. The figures were so far apart though and blocked by all the weeds. Tony wasn’t sure what to make of it but Mr. Chi was looking at him like it was important but he couldn’t understand and Tony fled the room.

He refused to think about why the kid drew that and what it meant, but he couldn’t get it out of his mind. Why was he surrounded by such dense green and did his facial hair really look that out of control? It seemed like the kid was always around a corner but sadly he was the person Tony saw the most. He sat down at his desk and snorted at how pathetic that sounded. Pepper was avoiding him recently and would leave all their interactions to over the phone and Rhodey was busy with work…or also avoiding him. Tony didn’t know nor did he care. He was fine.

He played with his pen and gazed around his office. On the walls were paintings that Pepper acquired for him. They were neutrals tones, grey and beige, and matched beautifully with the furniture. His desk was the only piece that Tony picked out for himself and sat in the middle of the room. In fact it was something he made from old Iron Man suits that he soldered together. It had thin steel legs that intertwined and twisted under a thick glass top. Tony loved how you could look through the top at so many different angles and not see what was holding it up. Only by standing just right would you be able to see the delicate metal supporting the glass.

Tonight, Tony stared blankly around the room, noticing for the first time how out of place his desk looked. The grungy style of the desk looked out of place among the sophisticated decorations. He sighed and put his head in his hand.

Everything would be fine if he could get some sleep inside of trying to psychoanalyze his furniture.

If asked Tony could tell us the name, age, and relevant information recorded on the file for one Peter Parker. If asked again he would flounder and instead of admitting he knew nothing personal about him, would say that the boy didn’t like toast or violent movies. When pressed once more Tony would storm out of the room without answering.

When he walked into the living room of his floor he was displeased to see Mr. Chi sitting on one of his couches.

“Oh,” he said before moving to the liquor cabinet. “You’re still here are you?”

The man sighed and Tony’s cheek twitched. No good had ever come from finding the man staying late to talk to him. Usually Tony was subjected to these little talks once a month. Sometimes more depending on how the boy was doing and Tony hated them. Hated the pleading in Mr. Chi’s eyes when he talked to Tony. It was the same look Pepper and Rhodey would give him and made him feel like a villain.

“As I have recommended multiple times, Mr. Stark…” 

“Please, just Tony.”

“As you wish. I have told you, Tony, the boy needs guidance. He needs someone to look up to. Rules and boundaries so he is not walking aimlessly along life’s path.” 

Tony snorted but didn’t look up from his glass the uneasiness grew in his stomach.

“And I told you. I’m not the man for the job. I wouldn’t be able to keep my rule from becoming a dictatorship.” The man across from him shook his head.

“I thought it wise to tell you...” He paused and waited for Tony to look up.

“Yes?”

“You know what day it is.” Tony rubbed his hand down his face before draining the glass and filling it again.

“Yes. Its Friday.” He said with sarcasm

“Indeed, it is and not just any Friday. Peter is currently hiding in the closet on the fifty-seventh floor.”

“Again?” Tony asked.

The man sidestepped his question with a suggestion that sounded more like a command: “I think it prudent if you go find him. Personally.”

Tony swallowed at the hard look coming from Mr. Chi. It wasn’t the first time he’d been subjected to it and Tony was sure it wouldn’t be the last. Resignation dripped from his expression as he wished the man a goodnight. He wondered how well he would have succeeded under Mr. Chi’s tutelage when he was a child.

He started down the stairs forgoing the elevator to lengthen the time it took to get there. The closet was at the end of a rarely used hallway and Tony’s eyes purposefully avoided it as he walked closer. When he stood in front of it he saw the no light emerged from under it. Tony wondered how long the boy had been in there.

Not letting himself be cowed by a five-year-old Tony strong forward and knocked.

“Peter?” He said with no response. “Peter.” Annoyance seeped into the name and infused it with purpose. Tony was wrong. The day could get worse.

“Open the door. Now.” His ear pressed flat against the door and still not a sound could be heard. He paced back a forth for a moment, his eyes straying to the closed door.

“Jarvis. Unlock the door, please.”

Jarvis seemed to be giving him the cold shoulder because without a word the door opened. The light from the hallway flooded into the tiny room. Tony glanced in and saw what looked to be some kind of chair, complete with handles made of old stacked cleaning bottles. It was… resourceful.

He stepped closer and spied a shoe covered half in shadow. Tony followed the shoe into the shadow and spotted a leg and then a small body attached. He lay quiet and still. At first Tony thought he was sleeping, he couldn’t see the boy’s face but he liked to imagine that was all but the boy hadn’t moved when Tony entered.

The ground rushed up to hit his knees and Tony stared at the boy. His hands reached out in front of him toward the small body but stopped before they could touch him. What if he hurt the boy without knowing?

His hands trembled in the air and staring at the child thoughts of his own childhood burst from their box in his mind. Isn’t that the same excuse he gave Howard? It was certainly the way he managed as a child. Howard couldn’t possible have known he was hurting Tony so it wasn’t the man’s fault. It was an accident. His father told him that many times but now Tony didn’t want to repeat the same accident.

“Peter?” He whispered and realized it was the first time he ever spoke the boy’s name out loud; At least in his remembrance. Ironic than that the boy wasn’t awake to hear it. His chest rose and fell rapidly. Faster than he thought was normal. His hand moved on its own to ghost over his pulse. It was too high. Tony’s breath stopped and he pulled his hand away, shaking, as if he was burned.

“Jarvis?” He said not sure what he was asking,

“His pulse is high, Tony. You need to get him to the Medbay. He has suffered from what seems to be a panic attack, again.”

There was that word: again. Like the definition itself, the word kept repeating over in his life and Tony was starting to hate it. It meant that there wasn’t one bad thing but multiple. That the burdens would continuously stack up on each other creating an unmanageable load.

He took in a deep breath and gently picked Peter up before walking to the Medbay. He held the body in his arms away far into the air but his neck bent to look uncomfortable. Slowly Tony brought Peter closer to him and rested the small head on his shoulder ignoring the warmth before picking up his pace.

The nurse on duty bristled when she took Peter’s pulse and other vitals. It was strange seeing the normally active child in bed, still. It was strange seeing him in general. His hair which Tony now guessed was freshly cut when he came to live here was now longer and little curls rested against his forehead. Small freckles lay underneath the curls and along his chin and cheeks. Tony wondered what color eyes he had. Wires wrapped around him creating a strange sort of cage and Tony took a sat in a chair to the side until the nurse came back.

“Alright Mr. Stark. He’s going to be fine. From what we gathered he must have had a panic attack, which caused him to fall and hit his head. It was lucky you found him. I suggest you watch him for twenty-four hours and then check back in. Lots of rest and no stress.” She said, checking Peter over once more before leaving him alone in the room.

Tony rested his forehead on his clasped hands and stared past them to the ground. The sound of the machines whirling and their breathing filled the room and gave the illusion they were the only two people in the world. He glanced up at the boy again and caught the deep circles ingrained under Peter’s eyes. Nobody that young should be so tired; nobody that young should be lying in a hospital bed.

He thought back to the many conversations he had with Rhodey and Pepper. On first meeting the two were smitten with the boy. Somehow they came across Peter and immediately fell in love. They set up some sort of intervention for him complete with his favorite cake but Tony wouldn’t listen. Wouldn’t see past his own history to see the possibilities in Peter’s. After their last attempt to talk sense into Tony was met by an intoxication level they hadn’t seen in a while they left him to simmer. They hadn’t been back to see him again.

How was he supposed to handle caring for another person? A child? It was too much and Tony wasn’t ready for it. His eyes flitted to the door; hope building that someone would arrive and be able to fix everything. The door remained closed. Worries and doubts plagued him through the whole night but he sat there next to Peter.

The sun long past disappeared when he noticed the kid’s body trembling. He quickly took off his jacket and laid it over the boy, its length covering Peter’s whole body. Tony wrapped his arms around himself and stayed vigilant.

The renewed sun appeared but Tony’s will remained unchanged. He had no late night revelations about what he should do. Their little hospital room was untouched by anything from the outside and Tony felt as though he aged a lifetime by daybreak.

The small hand twitched and then a groan came from the boy.

“Peter?” He said, tasting the name on his tongue for what felt like the first time.

“Mr… Mr. Stark?” The voice that responded was weak and dry. Tony hurried to lift some water and watched as Peter gulped it down murmuring a weak thanks. He watched as Peter’s head flopped down onto the pillow and turned to look at him.

Warm brown eyes regarded him. Tony should have guessed that was their color, was ashamed he hadn’t known. They were a mixture of many browns. In one corner there were gold flecks and in the other there was a beautiful hazel that reminded him of his mother’s eyes. Peter smiled at him and Tony’s heart stopped.

Thankfully a nurse came in before Tony had to say anything and he took the opportunity to make a phone call. He felt odd contacting someone from work but it needed to be done. He had to cancel the meetings scheduled for this morning. Tony stepped back into the room not a quarter hour later and curled his hands into light fists. He hurried out and went to the nursing station.

“We thought you were going back to work so we had someone take him back to his room.” 

Tony nodded and with heavy feet left the Medbay. The air in his office was stale, unused, and he had the errant thought that maybe they had been locked away in that little room for a thousand years.

He sat in his chair and started opening emails. No one cared it was Saturday. There was always work to be done. He worked on autopilot and answered them but the image of the Peter in that closet never was far away.

On more than one occasion he was tempted to see how Peter was doing. In the end he stayed in his office. Tony stayed seated at his chair staring at the beige paintings wondering why, all the sudden, his heart felt heavier and the glass of brandy to his right didn’t comfort him as it normally did.

Thank you!!

Taglist (let me know if you want to be added): @verdonafrost

Day Eight: Stab Wound

#whumptober 2019 #whumptober #no. 7 #Isolation #marvel #tony stark #peter parker #child peter parker #marvel fanfiction #implied/referenced past child abuse #Peter parker needs a hug #my writing #eliza writes

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harrysthoughts · 5 years

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You - Episode 9/10

Youlinas! This is my last in-depth post about You, season 1. Feels like just yesterday I was just sitting down to watch a buzzy Netflix show with my girlies...little did I know what I was getting myself into. Spoilers from the last 2 episodes are nigh.

“How did I get here?” That’s the question Beck asks herself as she sits on the floor of the glass cage we all knew she’d end up in since we saw it in the first episode.

First, let’s talk about Candace, annoying as she is. Of course they just had to cast someone that looks like Lucy Hale sucked on too many helium balloons at a party, which isn’t a bad thing, it just is. In the second to last episode, we learn all about the doomed relationship that preceded Joe and Beck, and it’s not really as interesting as it could’ve been.

Basically, Joe meets Candace while she’s complaining about being hungry. We learn she’s in a band called “Heathcliff’s Misery” (stop) and likes wearing Doc Martens (same.) Short story short, she cheats on Joe with a record label guy and he finds out. This is where Joe kills someone for the first time: he pushes said record label guy off a roof (after the guy offers him some blow. Have some manners, Joe!)

Flash forward to today and Beck is following in Candace’s featherbrained footsteps because she’s also cheating with a man who’s supposed to propel her: Dr. Nicki, the therapist. Joe finds out (“THERE IS NO EMMA FOX FROM BROWN!” - there never is, is there?) and promptly beats John Stamos right up, but doesn’t kill him.

When things might just be a-ok, Paco comes to ruin everything (his fave pastime.) He stops by to return a book to Beck, saying that he forgot he’d put it in the ceiling. Beck is like, “ThE cEiLiNg?!” And Paco is like, “Yeah it’s where Joe hides all the evidence from all the people he’s killed!” Not really, but basically. Curiosity, as it does, kills the cat. Beck retrieves a box from the ceiling while Joe is getting breakfast and discovers Benji’s phone, Peach’s phone, her phone, her panties, and Candace’s (Urban Outfitters) pendant. And the jar of teeth, which makes her freak out and drop it. While cleaning up the teeth jar glass, she cuts herself. Joe notices when he comes back that she’s shaking and bleeding and he’s like “let me take care of you!” This is a pivotal scream-at-your-tv moment. Beck is just about to leave, spewing something about how Annika wants to get brunch, when Joe slams the door and hits her. She wakes up in the glass cube. Of course.

Beck in the cage is stressful to watch, like a live-action millennial Beauty and the Beast without the singing cutlery. She goes back and forth between being distressed and being calm, as I’m sure anyone would in that situation. She wears a Nirvana shirt, which feels symbolic but ultimately just makes an already fake situation harder to take seriously.

He brings her a typewriter like she’s Kit fucking Kitteridge and tells her to write. They share dinners through the little food box. Joe offers her the rest of his wontons, probably in an attempt to normalize the fact that they’re separated by impenetrable glass. Her first attempt to get out is when she begs to use a real bathroom, and not a pot in the corner. Joe is about to free her but then she looks at the staircase like she’s about to run up it. Beck, darling, we must never make our desires so obvious!

While she’s locked up, Joe takes cautionary steps to insure he can’t be blamed if people start to wonder where Beck went. The Salinger private investigator asks Joe some questions before revealing that they’re testing DNA for evidence they found at the Connecticut house. He immediately flashes back to the time he peed in a jar and put it back on the shelf. I’m sure he’d be pissed if he got caught because of the jar. Sorry, had to.

Paco attempts to kill his mom’s drunk boyfriend but fails so Joe does it for him. Meanwhile, Beck is back in the glass cage, writing the best, most Beckish prose she’s ever written. As I watched I was like...this is good! The New Yorker is shaking!

Joe comes back and announces that the PI could potentially put him in jail. Beck tells him to read what she just wrote. She makes a strong case that they could blame everything on the therapist because he too has a random jar of teeth laying around. It would check out. They have a heartfelt moment, hands touching on opposite sides of the glass, like 3rd graders on a trip to the aquarium. Joe comes in to embrace her and just as he notices the missing keys from the typewriter, Beck STABS him. My roommates and I woke up the whole block with our screams of victory, as if we were straight boys watching soccer.

She escapes and starts screaming at him, naturally. Throughout the entire scene, the keys remain in the door, which is SUPER stressful for everyone involved. Finally, she runs up the stairs, only to be faced with a metal door. So now she’s locked at the top of the staircase, banging on the metal door, screaming. It was a very Kate-Winslet-in-Titanic moment. Of all people, Paco wanders up, takes a look at her, and walks away, leaving her to go back into the murder den to retrieve the keys. After hitting Joe with a hammer, she gets the keys and goes up the stairs AGAIN. I haven’t been so stressed watching a screen since Skyscraper (a very underrated movie, Neve Campbell’s elevator performance alone is worth the watch.) She is frantically trying out the different keys when Joe grabs her. Blackout.

The next scene is of Beck’s face plastered on a best-selling book at Mooney’s, where Ethan says something about not being able to get away from someone after they’ve died. So Beck’s dead. Joe, smartie pants psycho that he is, took Beck’s writing and turned it into a memoir, framing the therapist as the villian, just like Beck suggested. John Stamos gets arrested and Joe continues his life. Paco and his mom move away, thank ZOD.

The final scene is similar to the very first scene of the very first episode. The bookstore is washed in hazy afternoon light and Joe is narrating. The familiar bells chime as we see a girl walk in. Joe creepily starts psychoanalyzing her based on her physical traits and clothing, just like he did Beck. And then...it’s Candace. She says “Hi bunny.” Joe is dumbfounded, as are we.

CANDACE???!?!?!?!?!? If Candace is going to be the focus of season 2, I might have to dip, because I did NOT sign up to watch someone who’s only facial expression is that of someone sucking on a penny for the first time.

I’ll digest this whole thing and report back with final thoughts later on, probably. Thank you guys for reading these little summaries. I’ve had so much fun writing them and seeing what you guys have to say.

#you #netflix

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champhangman · 7 years

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Reckless - Part 8

Part 8/?

Characters: AJ Styles, OFC, Baron Corbin

Summary: The newest woman on the roster finds herself making waves she never intended to, with men that are both off-limits to her.

Warnings: None.

Notes: Long chapter is long!

"Dad, the hotel pool is open all night! Can we go for a moonlit swim?"

"Dad! There's no more cold juice boxes!"

"My Daddy!"

"Hey, Dad, is it cool if I go hang in Karl's room? Cade just texted me and wants to know if we can watch a movie."

"Hold on, hold on," AJ grunted, trying to pull Anney's arms from around his neck. It was a lost cause, though. She was latched on for the night. Pressing a kiss to her forehead, he assured her that yes, he was her Daddy, then looked to his sons. All three of them were milling around the hotel room. All three suffered from a mixture of fatigue and boredom. And all three were looking to him to solve their problems.

"If I can get her down and the other two settled, we can go down," he promised Ajay, who nodded and flopped across one of the beds. Then he turned to Avery. "How did Cade text you?"

"On Ajay's phone," his second-oldest answered. "He used Uncle Karl's phone."

"Let me check with his folks." AJ wondered if Karl knew his son was using his phone to text. Adjusting Anney so she rested on his chest, he reached for his phone. To his surprise, Karl had managed to get the weekend off, and had brought his family to watch the Money in the Bank event.

"Albey can come, too," Avery said, as though this bargaining tactic would make his father more likely to say yes.

After squaring it with Karl, and then squaring it with Karl's wife, he stood and motioned to his two middle children, who quickly darted to the door. With a shake of his head, he settled Anney on his hip and followed them into the hall. Karl's room was directly across, and the door was already open.

Karl's wife stepped out once the boys had rushed into the room. "Hey," she called. "Did you want us to take her, too?"

AJ began to shake his head. Anney had only let go of him long enough for him to go to the bathroom all afternoon. Other than that, she'd had a firm grip on him since they'd gotten back from the pool. "I don't think—"

"Karl!" Anney squealed when Karl appeared in the doorway. She instantly let go of AJ's neck, reaching out to the man she knew as an uncle.

Slightly miffed, AJ let Karl take her. He reached to rub where she'd held onto his neck so hard, wondering why she didn't want him all of a sudden. As soon as she was settled on Karl's hip, her hands began pulling on the man's pointy goatee, and AJ knew the answer. Chuckling, he rolled his shoulders.

"Where's Jess?" Karl asked, seemingly unaffected by a two year old yanking on his facial hair.

"On the phone with her husband."

"She's single this weekend?" Karl whistled. "Don't tell the guys."

"Man, don't be gross," AJ groaned, wrinkling his nose. "What movie are you gonna watch?"

"Lego Batman, wanna watch?"

From behind him, Ajay blurted, "Oh, cool! Can I go watch, Dad?"

He opened his mouth to remind him that five minutes ago he had wanted to go to the pool, but simply released a sigh. "Yeah, sure, as long as it's okay with Karl."

"Of course it is. Go on, get a space before the bed's filled up." Karl handed Anney over to his wife. "Make sure there's room for me, honey?"

"I'm starting it in two minutes," she warned as she headed back into the room. "See you later, AJ."

"Bye-bye, Daddy!" Anney called, waving.

"See you soon, sweetheart," he promised.

Karl smoothed a hand over his goatee. "Kid-free for a couple hours, Uncle Allen? What are you gonna do?"

"I don't know. Probably sleep."

"Nah, man. Go out and have some fun," Karl insisted. He tilted his head. "And if you find someone to keep you company tonight, we'll keep the kids."

"Go watch the movie," AJ muttered with a roll of his eyes. Karl – and Luke, for that matter – had been encouraging him to find someone to keep him company for well over a year. Since the cracks had first started to show. "I won't be bored."

"Alright," Karl sighed. "I'll text you when it's over."

Once back in his room, he thought about going to the pool, then decided against it. It was kind of late. He was more than a little tired. Ever since he and the kids had arrived that morning they had been going nonstop. An early lunch. A couple hours at the pool. There had been a brief period of quiet while Anney, and then Albey, had taken short naps. Then had been dinner with Karl and his family. Baths.

He had to keep the kids busy. Otherwise the questions started. Anney would want to know why mommy wasn't coming. Albey would begin asking what a separation meant. Avery would talk about his friends from school whose parents were getting divorced and ask if all the horrible things they talked about would happen with he and Wendy. Ajay… He didn't ask many questions. He just had a tendency to look worried while his brothers and sister did all the asking. AJ was sure that out of the four of them, his eldest understood best what was going on. He'd been the one that started rounding the other three up and taking them outside when the tension between husband and wife reached the point of arguing.

AJ sighed. He was tired of the arguing. Tired of the questions. Tired of seeing the worry in his sons' eyes and the sadness in his daughter's. Which was why he was going to see his attorney Wednesday afternoon.

The door connecting his room to the next opened and Jess stepped out. Grateful for the interruption, AJ pulled his phone from his pocket and moved to plug it in. "How's Nick?"

"Fine. He and the kids just finished dinner." Jess looked around the room. "Where are the kids?"

"Across the hall, watchin' a movie with Karl." AJ grinned at his cousin. "So I guess that means you're on a break?"

"Doesn't matter, you'll still pay me the same," she reminded him with a smile. "Anney finally let you go, huh?"

"Karl's facial hair is cooler than mine I guess."

Jess laughed. "Are you going out?"

"I'm thinkin' of takin' a shower and catchin' a nap before they get back." AJ had a feeling that Albey and Avery would talk their way into sleeping over with Karl's sons. "I was gonna go to the pool with Ajay, but…"

Do you ever go out and swim at night?

Kim's voice echoed in his mind. Would she be at the pool? Probably not, he decided, biting the inside of his lip. She was probably still a bundle of nerves over the ladder match. She seemed the type to make an early night of it.

"Who is she?" Jess asked.

He turned to see his cousin sitting cross-legged on the boys' bed. "Who?"

"I'm not stupid, Allen. Someone's on your mind."

"Nothin's on my mind," he attempted to lie, settling on the other bed. He reached for the remote, grunting when Jess snatched it out of his reach. "Jess—"

"Is it the girl I saw you with in the hall? What's her name again? Kimmy?"

"Kim," he corrected. He couldn't have this conversation. Not with his cousin, for god's sake. "Her name is Kim."

"She's a kid," Jess said.

"She's not a – It's not – We're not—" AJ pressed his lips together and drew in a breath. "We're just friends. We work together. Nothing more."

She regarded him for a moment, with that same pensive expression she'd used since they were kids. When they had been kids it had been scary, because that usually meant she was catching him in a lie and would be skipping off to tattle. Now it was terrifying. Because he didn't want her to see inside his mind.

"Don't," he said, throwing a pillow at her. "Don't psychoanalyze me."

"I'm not psychoanalyzing you! I just want to know. Because…"

She hesitated for so long that AJ was compelled to sit up. "Because what?"

"She's into you." When he snorted, she threw the pillow back at him. "It was the body language, Allen. It's as plain as the nose on your face. You make her nervous, though, so she tries to hide it."

AJ thought back to the pool at Nattie's. Had that only been the night before? He pushed the pillow behind him and lay back down. She hadn't tried to hide it so much then, had she? Or maybe she had. Maybe the fact it had been dark and they had been alone in the cool water had spurred him on. He tried to settle with that explanation, even though he knew it was because she'd looked so beautiful in the soft glow from the fairy lights. And her skin had been warm beneath his fingers when he'd helped her take off her wet shirt.

She'd been shivering. So had he. And he'd said he didn't want to mess them up. When there wasn't a them to begin with.

He'd been so close to kissing her. To finding out if her mouth tasted as sweet as he somehow knew they would. He knew she'd wanted him to. She'd nodded when he'd asked her – he had asked her, hadn't he? Those moments leading up to the brief second he'd been able to feel her breath on his lips were a blur now. He just remembered moving closer. Her hands on his chest. Her little sigh that had been more of a turn on than it should have been. And she had leaned in. And…

Fucking Charlotte, he thought, throwing an arm over his face to mask his groan.

"Allen?" Jess' voice was almost timid.

"Yeah."

"Go out. Go to the gym Or the pool. Do something. Don't just sit here thinking about…" She sighed and he knew she was gesturing with her hands. She always did when she wasn't quite sure what words to use. "Whatever you're thinking about."

I'm thinking about a girl almost young enough to be my daughter. Wanna psychoanalyze that?

He didn't say that, though. Rolling off the bed with a sigh, he retrieved his shoes.

"Where are you going?"

AJ paused, glancing to the clothes he wore. "The gym, I guess. I'll be back before the kids."

"For what it's worth, I don't really think she's a kid." Jess smiled when he jerked his head up to stare at her. "She may be young, but… I know you well enough to know you wouldn't… Be friends with someone who didn't have their head straight."

"Thanks?" he offered, rolling his eyes. He instinctively reached for his phone, then remembered it was charging. Keeping it plugged in, he sent Karl a text that he was hitting the gym and wasn't taking his phone, requesting that his friend contact Jess if there was a problem.

Karl's reply was swift. We'll be fine. Do you need a spot?

No, just getting on the treadmill. Message sent, he locked his phone and relayed to Jess that Karl would let her know if a problem occurred.

"Stop worrying," she sighed, escorting him to the door after he got a bottle of water from the minibar.

Easier said than done, he thought with a snort. When it came to his children he would always worry.

His gaze naturally drifted to Kim's door as he headed to the elevator. It was closed, of course, and he saw the 'do not disturb' placard hanging from the doorknob. Yep. She'd surely made an early night of it. Smart girl—woman. He had to stop thinking about her as a girl. Of course, she was a girl, he thought once he was on the elevator. A little girl, too.

Little girl…

"Nope," he muttered, shaking his head in the empty elevator. No, no, no, he wasn't going to let his mind go in that direction. Better to think about something else. Anything else.

The ladder match. That was a good thing to think about. Except his mind went from the spots already planned to her match and what Brian had told him. Which made him think of the other things Brian had told him about upcoming plans. Plans that involved him. And her.

The gym was empty when he entered. He was grateful for that, having never been good at the pithy gym small talk. Approaching the two treadmills, he saw a TV on the wall, tuned to ESPN but muted. He stretched, rolled his shoulders. The soundtrack to the beginning of his jog on the treadmill was his own steady breathing. The rhythmic whir of the conveyor. The steady pound of his feet.

He was increasing the speed when he sensed the door opening. Glancing over his shoulder, he was surprised to see Kim entering the gym. In her usual vibrant pink, she stood out amid the gunmetal gray of the machines. He watched her bend, watched her gather her loose hair into a ponytail. When she straightened he looked forward, as though he had been watching the TV the entire time.

She set her phone and earbuds in the cup holder on the treadmill next to him. He glanced over when she started the machine and stepped on. Despite not wearing makeup, there was a soft glow in her cheeks. She was rubbing the back of her neck when he glanced at her again, and he saw faint marks from just below her jaw to her collarbone as she lowered her hand. She looked up, meeting his gaze, and he couldn't help noticing that her lips seemed fuller than he remembered.

"Did you want to be alone?" she asked.

Her voice had a smoky, bedroom quality to it. Opening his mouth to assure her he didn't need the whole gym to himself, he lost all ability to speak when it occurred to him that she looked as though she'd just had sex.

She'd just had sex.

"AJ?"

"Yeah. I mean, no, no, it's good."

No it wasn't. He couldn't think why it wasn't good, though. But knowing, or at least having an inkling, that she'd had sex – and recently, judging by the looks of her – caused a twist to form in his gut. The twist grew as he continued to jog, becoming a heated ball of pure lead that lay heavily in his stomach. He recognized the sudden bitter taste in his mouth as jealousy and grabbed his water for a swig. Like that would wash it away.

"I figured you'd get to sleep early," he said after two minutes filled with the whining of the treadmills. He bit his tongue, wishing he hadn't brought up sleep. Because sleep equaled bed, which equaled…

"I tried to, I really did. But… Nerves," Kim explained with a quick shrug. "I'm hoping a good run on this will wear me out so I can crash."

Had she had sex with Baron? She had admitted there was a history there. And from what he'd seen, Baron was anxious to relive history with her. Could he even ask her? No. He couldn't. It was none of his business who she was intimate with. No matter that the thought of her tangling with Baron between the sheets caused the ball in his stomach to turn into lava.

"You'll do fine," he assured her.

"I hope they don't change the outcome before the match."

He hadn't thought of that. Looking at her, he saw her teeth worrying her bottom lip and felt a pang of sympathy. It was one of the few pains in the ass about their careers. Changes were made constantly. Sometimes in the middle of a match, on the whim of just one man, a dream could be achieved or crushed. "They won't. They've made too many plans for that to happen."

"I wish I had your confidence," she sighed. "But… I guess since the plans involve you they won't get changed willy-nilly."

"What do you mean?" he asked, reaching to increase his speed. Maybe if he ran fast enough the ball would disappear.

"Well, you're a pretty important guy. Some might even say the top guy on SmackDown. I doubt they'd tell you that one thing is going to happen then yank it away at the last second to replace it with something else."

"It's been known to happen," AJ admitted.

"Can I ask… Are you okay with the storyline Brian said they'll start?"

"Of course I am. Why wouldn't I be?"

"It's a romance thing, for one."

"I've done 'em before, sweetie." He probably shouldn't call her that. But he couldn't not call her that. "Didn't you do any in NXT?"

"Too busy shattering glass ceilings and destroying stereotypes," she informed with a toss of her head. "For real, you're okay with it?"

"Absolutely."

Her phone chimed and she reached for it, stride never faltering as she read the screen or while she tapped and swiped. AJ admired her posture, sneaking glances of her profile. Whatever message she had received made her smile. When she placed the phone back into the cup holder, she bumped up the speed on her treadmill.

He disliked the silence that took over but was unable to break it. He could sense her worry and anxiety, her fears for what would probably be the biggest match of her career thus far. Not knowing how he could assuage those worries, he stayed quiet. There was something else, he realized, pushing himself to run faster. Something had changed.

***

The ring was assembled. The commentary tables ready. High above the ring, beyond the lights, was the small white briefcase that she would be battling for in just a few hours. The techs had installed their bird's-eye-view camera. Two referees now leaned against the ring, talking intently with a cameraman and Byron Saxton. At the commentary table sat Tom Phillips, who was going over notes. She wasn't surprised to see Baron and Corey leaning in the timekeeper's area talking.

The barricades, ramp, stage, and screens were in place. Everything was ready to go.

Kim walked slowly down the ramp, eyes on the large screen above the ring that displayed the time until the doors opened. In just under three hours, the arena would be filling up. The butterflies had hatched in her stomach just after she awoke that morning. It felt as though two swarms of them warred against each other for space. She'd had to force herself to eat breakfast and lunch. Even now, two hours after eating, she felt as though it would all come back up any second.

"You doing some mat work?"

She stopped next to the ring and looked over at Charles Robinson. "Yeah, is it okay?"

"Sure. We've still got the practice canvas down. Gonna roll it up in about two hours."

She nodded, exhaling as he and Mike Chioda headed up the ramp. She wasn't sure that what she was going to do considered mat work. Really, she was just going to climb the ladder currently in the center of the ring and practice falling. She and the girls had gone over spots earlier, when it had just been the ring and a couple of ladders. Everyone else seemed confident about what they were going to do. Even Charlotte, perfectionist that she was, had said she was happy with their plan.

Kim was, too, but she couldn't shake the nervousness. One wrong landing, one misstep going up or coming down the ladder, and she would have to find new dreams. Or at the very least, her dreams would be derailed for weeks or months.

She had just stepped into the ring when the lights shifted from white to blue. Turning, she saw Charlotte's entrance graphics. It was weird, seeing it without the accompanying music. She checked her watch and began to lightly bounce on her toes, stretching her arms above her head.

"Practicing your victory?" a voice asked.

Kim laughed and turned to see Baron standing just outside the ring. "Hardly. I'm just going to go over a couple moves."

Baron tilted his head to look at the empty ring. "Alone?"

"The moves I'm doing are basically falling with style." She grasped the top rope and squatted down in front of him. "Want to hop in here and be my landing pad?"

"I'd love to, baby, but I've got to meet with the merch guy about a new shirt." He patted her knee. "You'll do great. You know you will."

"Actually, I—"

"I'll see you in a bit, alright?"

And with that, he was gone.

There goes my super supportive man, she thought with a roll of her eyes. No, that wasn't right. He was supportive. In his own way. Back then he had occasionally worked in ring at the Performance Center with her. And he'd always told her she did well after her matches. But at the same time he always gave off a vibe of just not caring about the women's matches at all. When she got excited about other rivalries that didn't include her and wanted to discuss them with him, he had always given her a look that clearly said he didn't care.

She would ask him about that later. He'd agreed to be more open and honest, hadn't he? And this was an important topic to her. Chewing on her bottom lip, she was about to straighten when the lights began to flash green, yellow, and teal. She allowed herself a moment to enjoy the spectacle of her entrance graphics and lights, appreciating how the graphic design team and lighting techs had matched the colors to her ring gear. Thinking of the new gear waiting in her suitcase, she smiled. It was the same colors she had been using since her main roster debut, but styled a little differently. And this time she had a matching jacket…

"Is this a private viewing party or can anybody join in?"

Kim jumped upright, spinning to see AJ hop over the barricade. Lifting an eyebrow when she saw he wore only a pair of shorts, with a black t-shirt hanging over one shoulder, she was about to ask why. But then she realized it was none of her business. And the faint sheen of perspiration on his chest told her he had probably been jogging or running the arena's concourse. She had done it earlier, as a way to warm up before she and the other women had planned out their match.

"Anyone can join," she told him, raising one knee to her chest to begin stretching. "As long as you like green, teal, and yellow."

He smiled, then laughed as the colors changed to pink and purple. "I'll just have to wait 'til next time, huh?"

"You're more than welcome to rock out when I make my entrance tonight." Dropping her knee, she lifted the other.

"I thought y'all already did your match plannin'?" he asked, pulling himself up to stand on the apron. "'Cause I remember bein' told that if I so much as peeked around the curtain I'd get punched by Hunter."

"We did," she promised, snorting on a laugh at the thought of Hunter being so protective of the women's match plans. Except for Hunter himself, only Charles Robinson had been allowed to watch them. "I just want to practice a couple landings."

"By yourself?" AJ draped his t-shirt over the top rope.

"Yeah…"

"What kind of landin' are you doin'?"

"Are you sure I should tell you? I don't want Papa H punching you…" She grinned when he rolled his eyes. "Okay, well…"

She told him about the two planned spots she was most anxious about. He looked thoughtful as he stepped between the ropes, and she went on to explain how she wanted her landings to look. He was aware of the ending of the match, and she could tell by his nod that he understood her concerns. He visibly relaxed as she spoke, and felt a flutter of happiness when she saw the sudden spark in his eyes. She recognized it. It was the sign of someone who loved their vocation. And, when he nodded with true understanding she sighed with relief. Once at the height she would be knocked down from, she looked down at him. She appreciated that he used his hands to explain. She loved that he actually climbed the ladder and demonstrated for her, explaining every step so thoroughly she half-expected a written exam later.

When he hopped to his feet and motioned for her to try it, she climbed the ladder. He moved away, rubbing his chin, and she swallowed anxiously. Looking from his earnest expression to the distance between her body and the canvas. When she replicated what he had shown, it seemed the distance wasn't so far. The landing didn't hurt but it knocked half the wind out of her. AJ motioned for her to go again, then stepped forward and took hold of her right arm.

"You wanna hold it above your head, alright? Both of 'em. Make sure your elbows are out, like this." As he spoke, he demonstrated with her arm. "Otherwise you'll land on 'em and you don't want that."

Kim nodded and went up the ladder again. Then she fell. Again. After several more tries, AJ held out a hand and helped her to her feet. "Better?" she asked, wiping sweat from her forehead with her forearm.

"Much. You didn't need a lot of help. Now what's that other spot?"

"I'm going to be on the top rung. Becky's going to tip the ladder over and I'm going to land on Charlotte. I don't doubt her ability to catch me, but—"

He was already nodding. "All you can control is how you land on her. And not much of that. Remember your elbows and your knees. Better to land with your body and not your limbs."

She nodded. "Got it."

AJ patted the side of the ladder. "Go on. Do it."

Her eyes widened. "On you?"

"As long as you promise not to put my eye out with your bony elbow," he replied with a quick grin.

"My elbow is not bony, and—" She cut off and huffed out a breath, then began to ascend the ladder. Once in position, she straightened to her full height, looking down to see him walking around the ladder so he was behind her.

"You're not afraid of heights?" he asked.

"I shimmied up palm trees to get fronds all the time as a kid," she explained. "This is nothing compared to that."

"Whenever you're ready, lean back and let go."

She drew in a deep breath. Landing on AJ would be vastly different from landing on Charlotte. Awed still that he was taking time to help her, when he had his own huge match to ready himself for, she slowly exhaled and adjusted her stance on the rung. She kept her gaze forward as she began to lean back, pushing off the ladder. Pulling up her knees, she made sure to keep her elbows out while she fell, stomach flipping.

He was a wall of steel. Warm, moving steel that wrapped arms around her middle. He fell backwards as well, guiding her to stay with him. She tucked her chin out of habit, then let her head fall back as they landed on the canvas. The fall had seemed to go on for hours, but time went back to its usual speed as soon as they were horizontal.

Gasping, she lifted her arms, hands brushing the sides of his face. His arms loosened. She felt his hands sweep over her breasts as they fell away, and she twisted so she looked down at him. "That was amazing," she enthused breathlessly.

He closed his eyes briefly, tongue darting over his lips. "Yeah," he murmured, gently shifting his legs. "It was."

Kim smiled at him before rolling away. "Thank you so much, AJ," she said as they got to their feet. "I feel so much better about those spots now."

AJ nodded, crossing to retrieve his shirt. He threw it over his shoulder and stepped between the ropes. "Anytime. I mean it, sweetie."

"I may hold you to that," she teased, stepping between the ropes and standing on the apron. "I've got to up my game."

"Sweetie, you're gonna be just fine," AJ promised with a laugh. He hopped down, then reached to cup his hands around her waist. Her hands instantly grabbed his biceps as he lifted her off the apron, sliding to rest on his shoulders while he brought her down.

She wondered if time seemed to slow for him, as well. Eyes never leaving his, she pressed her lips together once both feet were on the floor. He held her waist longer than necessary. She slowly dragged hers from his shoulders, gasping softly when he dipped his head and placed a tender kiss to her cheek. Certain he could hear the racing of her heart, she held her breath when he lingered. And wondered how her body could scream, begging for another touch of his lips, when she had resolved to not pursue that sort of relationship with him. But scream her body did. Her head turned, and she felt his beard scrape her chin as she pressed her lips to his cheek. She decided that his squeezing of her waist before he let go was a hallucination, as was the flicker of longing in his blue eyes when he stepped back.

"I'll see you later, sweetie," he murmured, giving her another long look before heading up the ramp.

Kim sighed, watching him for several seconds, then checked her watch. Time to shower and start getting ready. Brimming with excitement, she walked around the barricade to enter the backstage area. She felt the hairs on the back of her neck prickle with awareness and, curious, turned to look behind her.

From the other side of the ring, leaning casually against one of the announce tables, Corey Graves watched her steadily.

#aj styles #aj styles imagine #baron corbin #baron corbin imagine #wwe #wwe imagine #multipart:reckless

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garden-ghoul · 7 years

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fellowship of the bloggening, part 9 AND two blogs, part 1

“what’s up gamers I didn’t update last night because I was lowkey suicidal”

THE BREAKING OF THE FELLOWSHIP

how appropriate on this, a day when I am very sad*

I have a question about the landscapes in Lord of the Rings. There’s a lot of lawns. Do lawns like, occur naturally in the British Isles? Is that why? I have never met a naturally occurring lawn. Fields, yes, but not lawns. I love the island in the middle of the river, though, being kind of incongruously 50 feet tall with sheer cliffs and wheeling birds and all. Take me to the Anduin.

Aragorn doesn’t sleep well. When our heroes get up he calls them together and says it’s time to choose. Especially for Frodo. Frodo asks for another hour and goes off somewhere; everyone studiously avoids looking at him except Boromir, who Stares. Frodo climbs up on Amon Hen and stares down at the river while he thinks. Ah, I love him.

Suddenly he awoke from his thoughts: a strange feeling came to him that something was behind him, that unfriendly eyes were upon him. He sprang up and turned; but all that he saw to his surprise was Boromir, and his face was smiling and kind.

!!! Danger warning !!! Boromir is acting super super friendly and reasonable. He thinks two people can reach a decision more easily than nine! Sitting with Frodo will be a comfort to him! Frodo is kind of obliviously discourteous; like he doesn’t explicitly distrust Boromir, but it’s clear what he’s saying is making Boromir >:(

'I think I know already what counsel you would give, Boromir,' said Frodo. 'And it would seem like wisdom but for the warning of my heart.'

'Warning? Warning against what? ' said Boromir sharply.

He’s awful defensive, isn’t he. Frodo is just being super sincere and Boromir is so disingenuous. But Boromir is looking rather acquisitive, and I am sad that Tolkien didn’t include Frodo’s growing unease in the text. Like I guess it’s elegant to leave it subtextual but come on I want this to be an emotionally intense scene. All the intensity here is on Boromir’s part; he’s being contrasted with Frodo, who doesn’t emote, and who speaks in short simple sentences. Boromir starts talking grandiose talk about what Gondor could do if they had the Ring.

‘I am glad to have heard you speak so fully,’ said Frodo. ‘My mind is clearer now.'

`Then you will come to Minas Tirith? ' cried Boromir. His eyes were shining and his face eager.

`You misunderstand me,' said Frodo.

Oh I take it back I fuckin love this. So Boromir goes on the attack and Frodo sees no choice but to put the Ring on and disappear. As soon as he’s outside Ring-influence radius Boromir realizes how he was acting and starts to cry. Meanwhile Frodo makes it to the seat upon the summit of Amon Hen; it’s the seat of vision, I guess, and it’s maybe magically enchanted to he can see everything that’s going on in Middle Earth? He catches Sauron’s eye and throws himself to the ground, desperate to take off the ring before Sauron can pinpoint where he is. We get a fun description of the physical pressure of Sauron’s attention “like a finger pressing down.” And Frodo decides that he must not let the Ring near the rest of the company, to allow their minds to continue free.

Everyone else is sitting in a circle psychoanalyzing Frod; Aragorn decides that it would be best to split the party and have himself, Sam, and Gimli go with Frodo to Mordor. Let’s all take a moment to imagine that AU, which surely would have been awesome. Because spotlight Gimli!! Anyway. Boromir comes back to tell them that he vanished, and they all start looking. Sam is the only one who’s actually competent to psychoanalyze Frodo, and realizes he must have gone for the boats to go away by himself. Sam throws himself at the boat and misses by an entire yard. Frodo paddles back to shore so he can get in properly. And they’re off. time for

THE TWO TOWERS (BOOK 3)

THE DEPARTURE OF BOROMIR

We join Aragorn as he runs up Amon Hen and completely fails to use the hill’s magical sight powers to find Frodo. He DOES use his sharp ears to locate Boromir in trouble, though! Come on lad what is this Amon Lhaw? Please. Also how is “lhaw” pronounced? Like Welsh LL? That’s my vote. Haha also Aragorn realizes Sam’s not with him, but still hasn’t cottoned on to the fact that hobbits have much shorter legs than him. Dude. Your nickname in Arnor was “Legs” you KNOW this. Well, he finds Boromir impaled into a tree trunk; Boromir says that the hobbits were taken, and he has paid with his life for trying to steal the Ring. Aragorn kisses his forehead and tells him “no sweet prince you have done nothing wrong ever in your life and I love you”

And then seeing that Boromir has died he says to himself “I’ve mucked up everything, I can’t believe every single thing that has ever gone wrong was my personal fault. How can I, Aragorn, save the quest???”

Legolas and Gimli show up and they all survey the battle site, looking for clues about whodunnit. The answer: Saruman! I like Legolas announcing out loud that he is going to collect arrows, because he’s all out. He’s so extra. It’s a cultural difference, I think; Mirkwood is just culturally extra. Oh we also learn that Sauron does not speak his name, or allow it to be spoken. What?? That’s so interesting I wonder why! Finally the remains of the company puts Boromir’s funeral boat out on the river and Aragorn and Legolas improvise a really impressive duet to eulogize him. And then they go after the orcs, hoping to free Merry and Pippin from Torment. And soon to meet

THE RIDERS OF ROHAN

Our three trackers run over the edge of the Emyn Muil and down onto the plains of Rohan, following the trampley trail of the orcs. I like the bit where they pass a stream with water plants and come down into the grass and Legolas drinks it in:

'Ah! the green smell!' he said. 'It is better than much sleep. Let us run!'

This is very AS. AH THE GREEN SMELL.

They argue a while over whether they should, uh, ever sleep. When they decide that they won’t be able to track at night anyway, Aragorn literally just falls over and passes out. I love him. The trackers have zero chance of catching the orcs, who definitely aren’t sleeping ever, but they persist anyway. Aragorn is unexpectedly weary (after running for three straight days) and apparently it’s because Saruman is glaring really hard at them. Night after night Legolas keeps watch, pacing and singing to himself, because he can sleep while he runs.

On the fourth day they come upon a group of Rohirrim riding down the same trail they’re following, and hunker down to wait for them. The riders pass them right by (elven cloaks!) until Aragorn calls out to them. They are extremely suspicious, especially when they find out our trackers have been through Lothlorien. Gimli, of course, is furious that anyone would suggest Galadriel is anything other than a perfect cinnamon lembas, and yells at Eomer. Aragorn hushes him and then introduces himself in the most dramatic manner possible, trying to look extra kingly so Eomer will want to help him.

Éomer stepped back and a look of awe was in his face. He cast down his proud eyes. 'These are indeed strange days,' he muttered. 'Dreams and legends spring to life out of the grass.

I like Eomer. He says stuff like “we don’t lie and thus cannot be easily deceived” and “That was a worthy man!” (I can practically hear it in Anglo Saxon). My regret about him in the movies is that he had the cutest little snub nose and wasn’t intimidating at all. He looked like a baby.

Um anyway Eomer wants our trackers to come to Meduseld (the hall at Edoras) and identify themselves to Theoden, since they’re still rather suspect strangers. Aragorn is very insistent, obviously, on going to the battlesite and looking for Merry and Pippin. Eomer eventually gives in and says he’ll let them borrow horses to check it out, as long as they PROMISE to come back to Meduseld afterward. He is putting his life on the line for you guys! Don’t let him down!

They ride to the battle site. I want to QUIBBLE again with Tolkien’s word usage; the trackers find “freshly cut turves,” which is surely a VERY WEIRD WORD TO USE. NOBODY PLURALIZES TURF ANY MORE JOHNALD. But he still pluralizes “hoof” as “hoofs.” SMH. In any case we camp under the eaves of Fangorn (“Cut no living wood!”) and during Gimli’s watch an old man, hatted and cloaked, shows up. Or maybe just a spectre of one, because he doesn’t talk, and vanishes without moving. Spooooky. No really, come Gandalf, stop playing games.

#blog of the rings

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