#steve isn’t getting fired. i mean imagine your dad firing you no way | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

stressisakiller · 3 years

Text

Hello Sunflower

Bucky Barnes x Reader Soulmate AU

Hello Sunflower Part 1

Summary: Your soul mark appears on your 18th birthday. What do you do when your father is a part of Hydra and your soul mark binds you to the Winter Soldier.

Warnings: Mentions and slight descriptions of torture, violence and brainwashing

Word Count: 2.6k

A/N: 4/23 New edit: fixing some timeline issues and integrating a little of the steve x reader I’m working on. Ok guys I reread this and decided to edit it and make it longer and add more dialog. I hope that you like the changes. I plan on going back and editing the other chapters as well, but that will be between writing and posting new chapters. Let me know what you think and if you have any requests for future parts. Also I originally got the idea for this after reading Wolf, Partner Gloves... by @revengingbarnes so check it out!

Series Masterlist

Next >>

You have always hated your dad. For as long as you can remember you have hated him. Every time he dragged you with him to "work" at Hydra that hatred grew. It came to a point when he decided that you would be the perfect subject for their new round of super-soldier serum testing.

So, here you are at 10, 10 years old, on this freezing metal table with a syringe in your arm screaming your head off as the serum burns through your veins. Pain. All you can think about is the pain. It feels like every single one of your nerves is on fire, and at the same time, they feel like ice. The pain blazes through you as your DNA is rewritten turning you from the child you are to the soldier that they want you to be.

Faces come in and out of focus as the scientists look you over, studying you to see how the serum is affecting you. Your head is fuzzy, only catching every couple of words that are being spoken around you. Everything is coming into view as your eyes adjust to the lights and the new information that your DNA is sending. Flexing your hand on the table you feel pins and needles from the tip of your fingers up to your shoulder, causing you to wince. A couple of tears slip from the corner of your eyes from the overwhelming ache the is present throughout your body.

A voice drifts in through the door. A voice that you know all too well, your father.

"She survived?" You have never noticed how sinister his voice sounds before.

"Yes sir, and it seems like the serum took, we aren't sure how exactly it has altered her yet." The other voice is weaker, trembling, scared of the man in front of it.

"Begin testing on her then, we need to know before we begin training her."

"Yes sir."

One set of footsteps retreats down the hallway while the other comes closer. You look towards the door, waiting to face the man that is about to walk in. You make sure your face is blank when the door opens, you don't want him to know you heard the whole conversation.

A slight sniveling man steps through the door and you immediately decide that you hate him. He walks over to you and undoes the straps on your arms and legs.

"Come little soldier, it's time to find out what you can do." He orders, his voice is a little stronger now that he isn't facing your father. He leads you down a maze of hallways, your bare feet make no noise as you follow after him.

Entering a different room you are met with the site of another metal table as well as a two-way glass mirror, a treadmill, and a large set of weights. The man points you to the treadmill and the tests begin. They force you to run, full sprint until your body shuts down and you fall to the floor, flying off the belt as soon as you hit. When you come back to consciousness they force you to lift more and more weight until you feel your arm muscles give out. The weights come crashing down on you breaking multiple ribs. You are given a day to heal before they begin shocking and beating you to figure out what your pain tolerance is, before cutting you in different places at different depths to discover how quickly you heal.

You aren't sure how many days have passed before you are thrown into your new "bedroom" to rest and heal. A meal of bread, milk, and some sort of meat substitute is all they give you to eat. With every test and beating your hatred for Hydra and the man who called himself your father grows. You haven't seen your father at all during the testing but you know that he has been standing behind that stupid mirror and watching as you are put through every test that the scientists could think of. As soon as he had taken you to be injected, you had decided that this man was no father of yours. No real father would willingly subjugate their child to this torture and watch as it happens.

You are given no rest before they begin to train you, throwing you into a ring with the other assets, teaching you how to shoot every type of firearm imaginable. You are taught how to throw knives and how to use poison, how to kill a man without leaving a trace and how to evade arrest. They make you into their perfect little child soldier, and you despise them for it.

Your memories from that point on are disjointed, you know that there is a machine that they would force you into, you can remember the pain, but not much else. Then there are these words, six of them. The scientists say them and you lose all control of your own body. But then they take you back to that other machine and you fall into blessed whiteness. After an unknown amount of time, they decide that they no longer need to take you to that machine or to use those words. All you have ever known is Hydra, after all, there is no way you would turn against them. That's their first mistake. You bid your time, and slowly they give you more freedom. The idiots.

As your 18th birthday had approached you set a tattoo appointment. You would rather die than let Hydra find out what your soulmate mark would be. You had decided beforehand that you would go in and get multiple tattoos on your birthday to mask the one that would betray the person that fate had deemed you destined for.

Waking up the morning of your 18th birthday you run to the mirror. Seeing the markings on your skin you die a little inside. It can’t be, he can’t be your soulmate, how are you going to be able to save yourself and him? There on your hip, the size of a nickel, in bright red ink is a star, not just any star but the blood-red star that is a prominent feature on the arm of the Winter Soldier. But that isn’t the only thing that catches your eye. You have another tattoo, on your left bicep a bouquet of marigolds, white daisies, baby’s breath, and yellow gladiolus, with the howling face of a wolf emerging from the center. You hurry around your apartment, hiding your marks with a heavy layer of makeup. You can’t run the risk of anyone seeing them now, not before you have the chance to cover them.

You rush to the tattoo parlor in a panic and tell them the two tattoos you want. You insist that they do both of them while you are there. You cut through the protests assuring them that you have a high pain tolerance and that you heal very quickly. In the weeks preceding this day you had contemplated what exactly you needed. You had reasoned beforehand that just one tattoo would be too suspicious, but now that you have two marks you decide that you only need to get one other tattoo. You know that you will be punished for this but it is worth it, he is worth it.

To cover the soulmate mark on your hip you get a galaxy with stars of all different colors that make up multiple constellations. It takes them most of the day to finish it, walking over to the mirror you study the new art on your hip. It stretches from the middle of your thigh up to your bottom rib. It's large enough that the stars fade into the background, making it practically impossible to tell that one of them is your soulmark.

The second tattoo is a bird in a cage that spans across the ribs on the opposite side as the galaxy. You have them make the bird abstract, using all types of different objects to create the shape of the bird and the cage. You leave the other soulmark alone, it is impossible to tell that it is a soulmark or at least who it pertains to, not with the other two tattoos vying for attention.

You leave the parlor late that afternoon and head home. As you open the door to your apartment you are met by the overly happy face of your father. You had expected him to be there but the look on his face causes you to pause.

"My daughter, where have you been? I have been waiting for you almost all day?” the fake concern in his voice makes your teeth clench. In response, you shrug noncommittally,

“I had to run some errands and they ended up taking longer than I expected.” He is suspicious of your lie, but it won't take long for him to discover exactly where you were all day.

“No matter my child, you are here now. As you know you turned 18 today, which means your soul mark has appeared. Show it to me so that we may begin to look for the man who will hold your heart." He oozes smugness, believing that he will soon have the key to keeping you in check. You stare him down, you will die before he finds out who your soulmate is.

"Sorry to disappoint dad,” you spit, “ but I had it tattooed over. I didn’t even look at it. So I will never know who my soulmate is but neither will you." as soon as the words pass your lips your father's face contorts. His rage at your defiance shifting him from your father to the lead scientist of Hydra.

His grip is bruising as he drags you from the apartment and to the lab. The table is freezing as he straps your half-naked body to it. He snarls at you as you glare up at him.

“You think that you can defy me and not face the consequences? You think that I would not punish you because you are my daughter? I don’t give a shit about you except for what you can do for the cause. You are nothing but a puppet for us to use.” he walks away ordering for you to be tortured until you reveal what your mark is. The only condition he gives is that you are not to be killed, after all, they still have use for you.

You spent days on that table, days of being tortured with every instrument they could think of. You were waterboarded, choked, burned and they paid extra attention to cutting every inch of skin that was covered by tattoos. At the end of every day your father would come in and ask if you had something to tell him, and every day you spit in his face.

After three days they decide to brainwash you, they can’t wipe you since they need you coherent enough to remember what they want to know. The words wash over you, and yet to your surprise, you still have complete control. You quickly use it to your advantage. You allow them to think it worked, answering their questions as if the soldier is in control. You tell them what you told your father. You didn't look at your mark, you immediately had it tattooed over. They believe you.

After all that must be the truth, you are their soldier and their soldier cannot lie. You are just relieved that they have finally given up, you aren't sure that you could have made it another day without blacking out or losing it.

When they drag you off the table and throw you into one of the cells you can barely move or even think. Curling into yourself on the hard cot, you allow sleep to take you. Your father doesn't allow you to rest for long, as soon as your body is in mostly working order you are thrown back into training.

“Fight or die.” He states, looking down at you as though you are the scum of the earth. “It matters not to me which you choose.” You act as their soldier and obey their commands as well as you can without losing yourself. Walking into the training ring you are dismayed to see that you are fighting none other than the winter soldier, your soulmate. You fight with everything you have, your hatred for Hydra growing with every bruise and cut you are forced to bestow. You use the moments you have alone in your cell to plan.

When you were younger you were forced to watch as Hydra wiped and programmed the soldier before they made you into one as well, at this point, you know his words by heart. You start to wonder, if they can make a series of trigger words to turn him into the Soldat, maybe you can come up with a phrase that will help bring him back. You spend the rest of the night creating the sentence that you will use, deciding on a nickname for him that has meaning to you.

Sunflower, that is the name you decide on. They are, after all, your favorite flower and if fate is to be trusted then he is to be your favorite person. The next day you begin implementing your plan, taking the opportunity to speak with him in the moments that you have him pinned down or he has you pinned down.

Every time it's the same phrase, spoken to him in Russian, “Hello Sunflower, the sun is up and your dreaming is done." This continues for months until one day Hydra decides that you are fit to go on missions with the Soldier, they believe you to be thoroughly under their control.

Every mission you find a chance to say the phrase to him. In the time you spend with him you learn to read him. He isn’t expressive, Hydra made sure of that, but when you pay enough attention you start to see the minute changes in his eyes or stance. You begin to notice a difference in him whenever you speak the phrase, no matter when his last brainwashing was. He begins to recognize you, even when in full Winter Soldier mode. When you speak to him while training his hits get a little softer and less aggressive, and when you are on missions he speaks just a little bit more.

You are 23 when the unthinkable happens, while on a mission, without the winter soldier, you fall into a river in some backwater town in Europe. You are saved from drowning by a man that you just shot. A man you have only read about in the soldier’s files. Steve Rogers. After retrieving you from freezing water, he takes your unconscious body back with him to the medical wing in the Avengers tower.

As you wake up your first thought is where am I, your second thought is this bed is way too fucking comfortable for Hydra. Your eyes shoot open. The blinding light of the room causes you a headache to make itself known. You start to move, feeling a tug at your wrists, you slowly open your eyes and look down. You are cuffed to the railing of a hospital bed, great. You flop back onto the bed, cursing your luck and hoping that whoever has you is willing to listen. Your gaze shifts to the door when you notice a figure behind the glass. The glass doors slide open, and Steve walks in. This revelation causes you to tense up, even more, you did shoot him after all.

“Oh good you're awake,” he says, noticing your open eyes and tense figure. “Now I get to ask you all of the questions I’ve been wanting to ask for the past three days.” He takes a seat next to you, his whole body screams intimidation. "Who are you? Why did you shoot me? What were you doing in that town and where did you get these?" He questions not bothering to hide the anger in his voice.

He is holding up Bucky’s dog tags in front of your face and waiting impatiently for you to answer. You want to snatch them out of his hand and place them back around your neck, after taking them from his file about a month ago you haven’t taken them off. You were going to give them to him after you got him out, which you were planning on doing within the next couple of weeks. But now you are stuck here and there is nothing you can do to get back to him. You look at Steve, desperation coloring your voice as you explain, praying that he will listen.

"My name is Y/N, my father is Hydra and forced me to become an experiment, a soldier for them. I was planning on escaping but I never could, I couldn’t escape and leave him there. Not when I could do something to save him. I couldn’t leave him there all alone." It came out in a rush. Your heart shatters as you realize that you have done exactly what you have tried so hard not to, you have left your soulmate in the hands of Hydra. You have to convince Steve to help you get him back.

"Wait a minute, you're Hydra?" He spits at you. Fuck, you forgot that he knew what hydra is and that he hates them with a passion. Well, at least we have something in common.

"Not by choice." You answer quickly, not liking the vehemence in his voice, yet unable to hide the hatred in your own. You notice the way his jaw relaxes the tiniest bit when you say that, if you hadn't had years of practice watching Bucky for the tiniest hints of himself you would have missed it.

"Alright then, who is this ‘he’ you keep mentioning?" Steve leans back, crossing his arms as he waits for your answer.

"My soulmate, the Soldier, the man on the dog tags, James Buchanan Barnes." Steve's eyes immediately narrow, his body goes stiff,

"You’re lying. I watched him fall from that train” His teeth are clenched as he speaks. “I watched him die! There is no way he's your soulmate!" you can practically feel the anger rolling off of him.

"I'm not lying! I swear!” you are terrified of what he will do if you can’t convince him. “Hydra got to him. They made him into a weapon, they brainwashed him and put him on ice when they didn’t need him so that they could control him better. I swear I'm not lying!" You can’t stop yourself from becoming slightly hysterical. Usually, you would remain calm in this type of situation, but this time you can’t. This time it’s Hydra and this time it’s James.

A girl, that you had noticed in the corner earlier, steps forward, resting a hand on his shoulder. You hear her murmur something to him, but you aren’t able to make out what exactly she says. His countenance softens when he looks at the girl and you are reminded of how you sometimes look at James. Turning back to you he stares for a moment before he making a decision,

“Fine, I can’t fully trust you and I can’t let you go, so you will have to live here in the tower, under surveillance. If you want us to trust you, you will have to prove yourself trustworthy." He stands, unlocks your cuffs, and strides out of the room, you understand, what you just told him is a lot to take in.

The girl that was with him turns to you, “I’ll make sure that they have a room ready for you as soon as you are well enough to leave the hospital.” She gives you a soft smile and turns to leave, pausing for a moment at the door.

“I have just one more question.” You nod at her when she pauses, you will try your best to answer it. “I know you shot Steve.” she starts. “But you missed anything important on purpose, didn’t you?" You just smile at her, she's right, but you know nothing you say will change anything. She studies you for a moment before walking out of the door.

Your arrangement works for a year. In that year you have become close to the avengers that live there. During the first six months you and Steve’s girl, Sarah, spend every morning together. She wants to learn how to fight and you are willing to teach her. You become close, she is the first person in the tower to trust you. In return for teaching her to fight she teaches you sign language. Apparently, one of her siblings was born deaf so her whole family knows how to sign. You become closer to Steve during this time as well, he still doesn’t fully trust you but he is willing to tell you more about his best friend. He always calls him Bucky and you find yourself calling him that too. But they end up moving to DC, leaving you in the compound with mostly Tony for company. Natasha and Clint are in and out of the tower and you come to a mutual understanding. You and Natasha have similar upbringings and it forms a bond, not friendship, but definitely trust.

Then after about a year of freedom from Hydra shit hits the fan. Fury is shot and Steve discovers that Hydra has been a part of Shield since the beginning. You have to escape the tower before Hydra gets to you, so you do. You keep an eye on Steve and Sarah, at a distance, of course, you know they will send Bucky after him and that will be your chance to get to him.

Then the bridge happens and you see your soulmate for the first time in a year. Your heart feels like it’s beating out of your chest as you run towards him. You watch as he attacks Steve, you see Steve's shock as the mask falls off and you hear his heartbroken voice when he calls out for his friend. You hear Bucky’s crushing answer. You run, tackling him to the ground, just like you had done so many times in training. He fights back, you knew he would. You struggle with him, dodging punches and his knife. You are finally able to flip him onto the concrete and pin him down. Your heart in your throat as you stare into the eyes of your soulmate, praying as you speak that he will remember. Knowing that he has an unconscious reminder of you etched on his skin in ink. Here goes nothing.

“Hello sunflower, the sun is up and your dreaming is done."

Tagged users: @calwitch @writerwrites

#bucky x y/n #bucky imagine #bucky barnes #bucky x reader #marvel #marvel imagine #soulmate au #hydra #james buchanan barnes #james buchanan bucky barnes #bucky barnes fanfiction #hello sunflower

156 notes · View notes

kaypeace21 · 3 years

Note

The theme with “time” this season makes me think of the phrase, “wanting to turn back the clock.” And I then think of Will never wanting to grow up and wanting to go back to the old days of playing dnd in Mike’s basement.

And then I think of Will’s (speculated) reality altering bending powers. So could there be a possibility that Will may use those powers to “turn back the clock”?? Maybe rewrite how things happened? Maybe it would be after Mike’s “death” like you speculated earlier. Since he thinks Mike is “dead” he wants to go back, and that’s what he does accidentally.

ALSO, Hopper tells joyce that he was trying to runaway from his "past" trauma with sara- before he says that line in the letter about wanting to turn back the clock and then saying it's not possible to do so . (And that life life hurts you but eventually you get out of that cave and life goes on ). Similar to Will he wants to turn back the clock to better times, but a part of him isn't ready to accept his entire past/ the tra*uma that comes with that- in order to move on and heal for the future .

Like robin said about back to the future "he's stuck in the past .But he needs to get back to his time which is the future!"

HOWEVER- I DON’T THINK THERE’S ANY REAL TIME TRAVEL!!!!

I’ve mentioned my time-theory many many many times- in relation to my DID theory. even if my did theory is completely wrong (aka Will has powers so his alters/split personalities/innerworlds come to life)-

We also see how memories are explored in a supernatural way in st - it’s not literal timetravel just El using her powers to explore tra*matic memories of others (Terry/Billy so far). Like NO TIME TRAVEL PLEASE-THAT’S JUMPING THE SHARK. I really don’t want it lol. XD I think hopper and Robin's lines allude to the theme that will be addressed: confronting the past/times that harmed you but overcoming it for the future because time goes on 'whether you like it or not '.

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

In reference to my time-did theory. Look at the st s4 movie inspirations. In ‘what dreams may come” a guy explores a heaven like world influenced by a painter’s emotions/created via immagination.We also have the movie ‘inside out’ -which involves “memory islands” (distinct worlds based on a child’s memories) which are influenced negatively by the kid being depressed she moved to California. The characters traveling to these memory islands are constructs of kid’s mind -and 1 of them also has a guide helping them explore the ‘memory islands’. Welcome to marwen- has an artist (attacked for being perceived as gay) imagining an abstract world based off his art- where the characters he made experience their own adventures (loosely based off the artist’s trauma). ‘The cell ‘ has characters explore the mind of a guy whose father ab*sed him- and the different alternative fantasy-worlds they explore are based off his memories. The cop exploring these memory-worlds, was also implied to be se*ually ab*sed by his dad . Also,in Inception a guy says he’s a construct of a guy’s mind ( the guy who created the dream worlds that are like alternate dimensions/levels- also hates his dad). And leo’s character says he needs to help him escape the many different levels of the dream world of the mind. Movies like inception, total recall, the cell, enter the void, wizard of oz, Peter Pan, hellraiser 2, dream warriors, bill & ted’s bogus journey, the labyrinth,and welcome to marwen, all allude to this: because they involve entering simulated abstract worlds usually created/based on happy& traumatic memories/fears. While truman show/matrix are more about realizing your reality isn’t real. While in bladerunner 2044/total recall it has the theme of false implanted memories… probably relating to hopper/el realizing they’re alters of Will’s-and their memories were technically created by him.

Something some DiD suffers have are “innerworlds” .When someone has DID there can be multiple “innerworlds” that are separate from one another (and look very different from one another) .And are usually very abstract worlds that are based on the child’s memories (good &bad) . These worlds are usually created at different times and almost act like alternate dimensions (and the inhabitants -npcs/alters of those worlds usually don’t interact with one another) . So they can almost resemble alternate dimensions like how Scott Clarke mentions “Hugh Everett’s many worlds interpretation.” Russia where Hopper is- is probably one of those innerworlds.

HOPPER THEORY:

tw:ab*se/r*pe. In s2 Nancy asks Steve how his “grandpa’s time in the war is a metaphor for your life?” And steve compares the mf to the germans in the war. Dr owens mentions Will has ptsd like “ (vietnam) soldiers’, Hopper saying he had buddies like Will . “In the 70s there was a study that compared the post-traumatic stress symptoms in Vietnam veterans and adult survivors of childhood s**ual ab*se. The study revealed that childhood s**ual ab*se is traumatizing and can result in symptoms comparable to symptoms from war-related trauma.” Hopper isn’t actually in Russia -but in one of the innerworlds (after he jumped through the rift of the machine- into Will’s mind). We’ll see flashbacks but also present circumstances of his imprisonment echo Will’s past with Lonnie (if the movies indicate anything)- being starved, guards getting payed in order to let other prisoners r*pe a gay prisoner (than claim incorrectly because of his sexuality he wanted it) , as well as a gang of sadist men who r**e others and a warden using that as a threat to be compliant , being thrown in a dark room of solitary confinement and starved when they didn’t obey the warden, the warden being religious, etc. And the American soldiers (in Vietnam) in the movies aren’t much better and do similarly horrific acts to civilians like r**e and bragging/ happily k*lling women, children, and the elderly. The drill sergant in vietnam calling them homophobic slurs & women, and chocking one of the soldiers with one hand (like the mf/russian), slapping one for not believing in christianity. Tying up a soldier in a bed , gagging him, beating him and saying “remember it’s just a dream.” Only praising them when good in fire arms.(movies : fullmetal jacket, papillon, shawshank redemption, platoon, welcome to marwen, etc ) . My assumption is flashbacks of his life- hints about him being an alter -the boxes in the basement are “vietnam” ,“dad”, and “ny” (and these are the memories of his we’ll see).or after escaping the prison he’s stuck in diff innerworlds of memories. And some of the bad characters in said stories will also parallel Lonnie . Like how in the s4 film ‘peterpan’- the young girl Wendy imagines netherland and the villain -captain hook- is based off her father ( in the movie they have the same voice actors/while in all stage productions the 2 characters are always played by the same actor). Similar to the other s4 film- ‘wizard of oz’ where the wicked witch of the west from the mythical land of Oz (is played by Dorothy’s real life mean neighbor in the real world/kansas).Or in ‘the cell’- all the alternate dimensions of the dream world that were created by a guy with a ab*sive h*mophobic dad -had the same actor play the villain in each very different dream dimension. ”Not sure if they’d use Ross Patridge (actor of Lonnie) in this way . But it would be very interesting if (In makeup) Ross played many negative people in Hopper’s life.

Also, in s2, Jonathan mentions Indiana writer Vonnegut- In his book ‘slaughterhouse 5′- Vonnegut begins the story of Billy (William) Pilgrim, a man who has “come unstuck in time”. (time ref of Hopper saying he wants to ‘turn back the clock.’ or’ runaway from his memories.‘It accounts of Billy Pilgrim’s capture and incarceration by the Germans during the last years of World War II (Hopper captured by the russians), and scattered throughout the narrative are episodes from Billy’s life with his dad, and his own wife and kids.Billy is forced to be part of the war and similar things against his free will. The moments start from his childhood when his father throws him in the water to teach him how to swim. He was unwillingly drafted into the war. Later, he is kidnapped by Tralfamadorians (aliens that are implied to be caused by his mental health issues/trauma) against his will. Therefore, he realizes that this concept is just an illusion.in bladerunner 2044/total recall it has the theme of false implanted memories… probably relating to hopper realizing he’s an alter and his memories are technically ‘created’ . Like in total recall- the bad ass spy is told all his memories: his wife/ years of marriage, his name, are just implanted memories. And she says “you’re life is a dream.” We also have ‘Arrival’ -the parent’s daughter died young cause of terminal cancer- and the mother later realizes time is also just a abstract construct (a thing she can experience differently than others), but she still finds meaning/happiness in those memories/times.

I also talked about how sarah as an alter could come back and the 2 would explore the “innerworlds” of Will’s mind together (you can read the details there).

El and Will theory

I’m thinking of the s4 movies and 1 matrix scene comes to mind that could be an obvious hint to Did (and Will’s importance). Mr smith (the suited calm villain/ who is a literal computer program of the matrix world -cough alter/npc of Will’s) kidnaps/ ties up Morpheus to a chair (like Will in s2), injects him with drugs in the neck ( like s3 steve/ will’s arm in s2). Then Mr smith says as everyone leaves the room “I’m going to be honest with you. I hate this place, this prison, this reality or what you call it.” (grabs Morpheus’ head and glares) “ I need to get out of here! I need to be free! And this mind is the key.”(referring to morpheus).morpheus also translates to ‘god of dreams’. Also Morpheus was wearing head gear similar to El in s1/Will in s2 . or in 12 monkeys the guy sent to psych ward -starts believing he’s just “crazy” and says “i created a world with those people in it.” “It’s not real .I’m just mentally ill, like you said ” when you know- it is all real,cause of the supernatural angle involved. in 12 monkeys a patient even tells him the fictional world he created would dissappear once his mental health was in order.

Then there’s the El stuff. Hellraiser 2- has a normal psych hospital, but the basement floor has an evil psychiatrist experimenting on teens to open a portal to another reality. assasains creed/dream warriors - has the psychiatric facility be similar to the s1 lab with sensory deprivation tanks, cameras, solitary confinement in dark rooms.The doctor experiments on them- and forces a character to go into the memories of another individual (we know El has memory powers).The dr reveals how the character’s reality/whole life isn’t what they think it is (and that the memories they saw with their powers-was their past life and they are that person’s reincarnation) . Aka Will is the host- and El is an alter (alters can see memories of other alters/the host irl-aka billy/terry were also alters ).

In assasain’s creed there’s 2 psychiatrists- one bad / one who is good (but influenced by the bad dr). One dr annoyed at the lack of progress, says about the patient “he doesn’t want to remember his father.” While one dr doesn’t want to rush the therapy/ the other dr wants the patient to go back into his memories regardless of how it affects him. (which could be Brenner & maybe Owens referring to Will’s dissociative-amnesia and not remembering all the ab*se Lonnie did. And Owens not wanting to rush it/hurt el by making her go into said memories …but Brenner not caring.

also other hints : Cough s4 using the movie wizard of oz refs “we’re not in Hawkins (kansas) anymore”-hint at russia. David on instagram posting st stuff and captioning it with and quotes, pretending to be dorothy from the film. Hopper in s1 saying hawkins lab was “emerald city” (referencing El- it’s also why they reference El entering our world in ep 1 and the alice in wonderland song plays) . Murray says about the supernatural “no one wants to see behind the curtain” (what was behind the curtain in wizard of oz-was a wizard aka Will). Or you know right before Will sees the mf for the first time -a clock turns rapidly/ he has goosbumps at the back of his neck. Which he later grabs/states are from “memories” he can’t remember that are like a “dream”.

If i’m right-not sure how much of this may happen in s4 vs s5, though. But I think something like this is possible. For all we know-Will/El being trapped with Brenner while Hopper escapes ‘russia’ could be how the season ends? The timeline i’m a bit iffy about-tbh.

#stranger things theory #will byers #el hopper #jim hopper #time theory #did theory

58 notes · View notes

buckyskorpion · 4 years

Text

11 hours - part seven

Pairing: Biker!Bucky x Reader

Summary: bucky is the mystery you can’t wait to solve. if you can get out of his bed long enough, that is. a biker au.

Warnings: gang-typical violence, sex scenes, alcohol mentions, probably more to come so stay tuned

A/N: hello i apologise in advance. pls dont hurt me!!! i would appreciate your feedback and your theories about where this fic is going! i hope this part isn’t too..... upsetting lmao. i wont be taking tags for this so please dont ask.

title taken from 11 hours by wet | playlist | please donate to my ko-fi!

masterlist

You believed, until now, that you walked the world seeking out dark corners and underbellies other people didn’t want to touch. That’s your job. The current case you're supposed to be working on involves a man suspected of drugging his girlfriend to take nonconsensual nudes of her and sell them to his friends while she slept. You’re well aware the world is a dangerous place.

But things look different now, in a way you never could have imagined before the Lerna. Those men were dead before you could blink, and you know life is expendable and fragile and so easy to take but it’s another thing to see it taken before your eyes. It’s another thing to take it yourself. And you know, now, why Bucky would only show you parts of his life and himself because this whole truth feels like staring directly into the sun - painfully bright, to the point where it’s all you can see and all the good things are reduced to a spotty, hazy blur.

You’re sitting in your office, at your desk where you’re trying to work but you can’t get the sound of bullet casings hitting the floor and the thunk of a knife in skin out of your head. There, in the centre of your tiny office, was where you sat on Bucky’s lap and kissed him and demanded ‘no secrets.’ Too stubborn to know he was keeping them for a reason, that maybe there are things you don't want to know after all. But you can feel his skin under your fingertips and the brush of his stubble as he kissed you, a memory you can touch, and you can’t help but think it still feels worth it. At the end of it all, if it was a choice of the Lerna happening or never having Bucky at all, you know what you’d chose.

As if he can hear you, your phone buzzes with a text from him. Joey’s at 7?

It’s already 6:30. You’re grabbing your keys and leaving the fear on your desk chair as you text him back. Sounds perfect.

It really is. Joey’s is your favourite bar, and just seeing the grimy neon sign outside makes your heart feel less heavy. This, after everything, remains the same. You still feel giddy jogging down the stairs, ready for the heady bass music to push through your chest and a whiskey apple to numb the wounds. It feels like the beginning, half-nervous half-excited to go find Bucky tucked in a booth at the back, dim purple light chiseling out his cheekbones and catching bright on his sharp smile. Back then it was innocent, if a fuck buddy hook-up could be. Now that you know you would do things for Bucky you’d never do for anyone else, that you don’t think you’ll ever be able to remove his brand from your heart- well. You skip a couple more steps as you head down into Joey’s, only a few minutes late.

You don’t slow down as you enter the bar, weaving through patrons searching for a familiar face. Now that you’re here to the urge to see him, to have him in your arms, is almost unbearable. When you do find Bucky, spinning a glass between his fingers in a nervous habit you’ve noticed he has, he feels your eyes on him immediately. He stands and you crash into him, burying your hands under his leather jacket to feel the warmth of his body against your palms. Bucky hugs you back just as harshly, the force of his embrace lifting your toes off the ground. When he pulls away his runs a hand over your head, down your hair, coming to rest by the side of your neck as if to check your pulse and make sure you’re really there.

“You ok?” he asks, bright blue eyes now dark and hooded as he stares down at you.

You nod, unwilling to let go of your grip on the back of his t-shirt even as he pulls away, and say, “Am now.”

“Need to talk to you, it’s important,” Bucky says. He escapes your grip with ease, because he’s huge and strong and it’s easy to forget that when he softens for you. He sits at the booth and you slide in across him, watching as he downs the rest of the straight whiskey in his glass like its water. That bad feeling is back, like back at Steve’s tattoo shop, but you don’t want it here. You fumble for Bucky’s hand across the table, and he lets you hold it but it doesn’t stop the dread settling heavy in your gut. You squeeze his fingers tighter, just in case.

“Is everything alright?” you ask. “Are we- did the cops find out-“

“No, no,” Bucky says, shaking his head down at the table. His gaze catches on your intwined fingers, the glint of his signet rings in the dim bar light, and says, “The cops aren’t the problem.”

“But there is a problem,” you say, and now Bucky raises his eyes to look at you.

“I need to tell you something, it’s important” Bucky says, again, and the dread rises from your stomach like bile to your throat. “You have to understand this, so you can see that I’m not- that this isn’t just-“

“Bucky.” He lets out a ragged breath as you cut him off mid ramble, scrubs a hand through his hair. You hate the way your voice wobbles when you say, “You’re scaring me.”

You almost make yourself laugh as those words leave your mouth. This scares you? Bucky, frustrated and nervous and clinging to your hand like a lifeline, but when he walked over lifeless bodies he sunk bullets into with a giant rifle on his back - that was just fine.

“You know when we were at Steve’s, and we were talking about Hydra? About Rumlow? Do you remember that?” Bucky asks. He stares at you like he’s imploring you to say it for him, whatever it is he’s struggling to say, but you don’t understand.

You nod slowly and say, “Natasha said Rumlow had it out for you. You said Hydra is your biggest rival.”

“Yes, right,” Bucky says, nodding a bit manically. He’s still gripping your hand tight. “Rumlow hated me, and as far as we can tell - or Nat, I guess, she’s been looking into it - he was acting on his own, to get to me.”

“That’s good, right?” You don’t feel sure, with the way Bucky is acting and looking at you all glassy-eyed. “No big gang war, or whatever.”

“I need you to understand why Rumlow hated me, because it’s not just- it wasn’t just about him, ok?” Bucky says, and now he’s looking around the room like that night in your office. Casing the bar, looking for exits. “He’s dead, but none of this died with him.”

“What is ‘this’?” you ask, and wonder for the first time, do I want to find out?

“The first time I met Rumlow was in the hospital, a couple of days after I got back from Afghanistan,” Bucky says. “I’d been honourably discharged, my arm was all fucked up and fried from a chem bomb and I lost all sensation in it so they sent me home. I remember I was lying in the bed looking out the window, and it was snowing. I hadn’t been anywhere but a desert in so long and I was like, what do I do know? I don’t own a coat anymore. I’m a black ops sniper, that’s not exactly a transferrable skill - can’t even put it on a resume because it’s classified. My arm’s fried and ugly lookin’. I’m fucked.”

“You must’ve been so scared,” you say. Bucky meets your eyes, and you can see it haunting him in the back of them - so much heat and fire and pain left behind, so much cold and unknown and pain lying in front. Your dad has told you a similar story, when he came back from Iraq, and he had the same look in his eyes Bucky does right now.

“I was,” he says, and you squeeze his fingers. He looks towards your hands again and says, “I was, and they knew it.”

“Hydra,” you say, and you know you’re right. Bucky nods anyway.

“Rumlow came into my hospital room and told me, Hydra helps guys like me. They helped him and look - he’s got a job and money and friends and a team again. A purpose. But I said no. I’m black ops, I know shady guys when I seem ‘em and Rumlow reeked of it. Just, Hydra doesn’t like being told no.”

“They target vulnerable, traumatised vets in hospitals?” you ask, disgusted. You can taste the hate that boils up, and that ugly, angry part picturing Bucky lying in a bed so alone and afraid and imagining someone like Rumlow trying to take advantage of him like that - that ugly part says I’m glad he’s dead.

“They��re highly trained and easily moulded,” Bucky says in way of answer, and you shudder at the thought. “But seem Rumlow failed and it was my fault. He failed over and over again every time they sent him to recruit me. So he hated me, and then I started the Commandos with Steve and Sam and Nat to target them. The only way to save the next poor bastard like me from ending up with Hydra is to end them, except there ain't a cop in the city who can touch them.”

“But you can,” you say, and you know it’s stupid but your heart has never been known as terribly smart, so you add, “Bucky, that’s dangerous.”

He smiles, small but it’s there, and he rubs his thumb over your knuckles as he says, “I know, doll. I don’t know if you know this about me, but stupid’s kinda my thing.”

“Very funny,” you say, rolling your eyes at Bucky’s cheeky grin now splitting his face. As quick as it came, though, his smile dies and so does the small spark of hope that maybe this story has a happy ending.

“I’ve made Hydra my enemy and I can’t change that. I don’t want to,” Bucky says, nodding solemnly at his own words and you watch him physically turn cold, stony and distant in the space of a second. “But that means that as long as Hydra is around, they’re going to be coming after me. First Rumlow, but it won’t stop there. They’ll come and keep coming and what if, one time, I don’t get there in time? Or you don’t get to leave your phone on, or even make it to a location before they shoot you in the back of the car?”

“No,” you say. You’re not stupid, you know where this is going and just- no. Bucky is being deliberately harsh, speaking loud and unfiltered to try and make it easier to do what he’s about to do but you won’t let him. That dread turned bile has now turned into straight, acidic fire pumping through veins and it hurts.

Bucky smiles faint and sad, says, “You said it yourself - it’s dangerous no matter what.”

“That's not what I meant,” you say, shaking your head vehemently, wildly, as if you can physically shake Bucky of this stupid idea and the actual pain you’re in just entertaining this conversation. “You know that’s not what I meant, what are- you asked me to stay, Bucky. You asked me, and now you want-“

“I know, I know,” Bucky says, tugging your hand close to him now but it’s your turn to try and pull away, albeit unsuccessfully. “I know and I’m sorry, I’m so sorry, but you almost died. Do you understand that? They would have killed you, and the only reason is me.”

“That’s such bullshit,” you say, trying and failing to pull your hand free of his grip but he isn’t letting go now and the death-grip he has on you, tethering you to him even as he pushes you away, makes your eyes sting with ugly tears.

“It’s not,” Bucky says, so sad, and you just want to kiss that guilt away for him even still, even as your heart is breaking under his fist. “You will always be in danger until the day comes where I can’t protect you, and I won’t do that to you. I can’t, I can’t be the reason you get hurt.”

“You can’t protect me if you’re not around,” you say, so soft you can barely be heard over Joey’s house music but honestly, you might as well be completely alone for how little you care about the bar around you.

“The safest place for you is away from me,” Bucky says, and that makes you laugh. Humourless, fucking painfully, but you laugh and Bucky glares so dark you’re reminded of the look in his eyes when he stared down at Rumlow’s body bleeding out on the ground. Through gritted teeth he says, “You think I would do this if there was any other way?”

“There is another way,” you say, glaring right back. “There’s not being a coward about it, Bucky. You lead a dangerous life, I get it. Believe me, I fucking get it, and I chose to stay. Ok? I wanna be here anyway, so why does my choice not matter to you? Is this some stupid excuse to get rid of me?”

“Don’t say that,” Bucky all but growls, and you should be scared. He’s scary, Bucky is dangerous by his own admission but you refuse to be afraid of him. Even when he’s trying to force you to be, holding your hand too tight and dragging you around the booth so he can pin you to the seat and you both know the only way you can move is if he lets you. As if he thinks he can scare you away from him, if he can’t reason you to go.

“I don’t care how dangerous it is,” you say into his seething face, inches from yours, teeth bared in a truly terrifying snarl as he pins you to the leather in a show of strength that will leave bruises tomorrow. “I don’t wanna be away from you.”

For half a moment, you really think Bucky is going to hit you. He moves so fast, and you’ve never seen his face look like that - hurt and angry and upset and half-insane all at once. But he just presses his forehead to yours, closes his eyes and breathes you in, and for another half a moment you get to think, maybe he’ll change his mind.

“You’re all I want,” Bucky breathes, so soft and quiet you almost don’t hear him if it wasn’t said almost directly into your skin. “But that’s selfish.”

“I don’t care,” you say, like a mantra now, or a prayer. Just hoping he’ll hear you, “I don’t care, I don’t care, I don’t care.”

“You should,” Bucky says, and pulls away from you just as fast as he came in. “I won’t be the reason you end up dead.”

Bucky sits before you like a solid brick wall - unbreakable, immovable, cold and blank. His eyes are shuttered from you and you know there’s no way to get to him now. There’s nothing else you can say. If you aren’t enough for him to push past his fear and love you anyway, nothing you say is going to change his mind. Just because you know it’s true doesn’t mean it hurts any less, though, as you sit there boxed in by this menacing stranger looking at you in a way you never want to be looked at again. Like he already doesn’t know you. Like you’ve already been forgotten.

“This was always gonna happen, wasn’t it?” you ask, more to yourself than to Bucky. You laugh at his silence, the flat set of his mouth and clenched fists on his thighs. Maybe if you never went to that first party at Natasha’s house and remained at arms length, sneaking out his window and never staying the night, then maybe you could’ve had him just a little bit longer. But you didn’t, and now you’re hurt in a way you’ve never been before. Your dad never prepared you to survive a pain like this.

You slide out the other side of the booth, tripping slightly as you climb to unsteady feet. It’s hard to see through unshed tears but you don’t bother looking back at Bucky still sat in the booth. You weave through people just as fast as when you came in, but for the opposite reason now - you can’t leave behind this dim-lit bar painted with the gorey tatters of your heart fast enough.

When you emerge onto the street you know Bucky has followed you, his hulking presence palpable behind you as you stand on the sidewalk and try and calm your rapid heartbeat. You’re surprised its still beating with how much it hurts, especially when Bucky places a hand on your shoulder and cracks your heart neatly in two. He says, softly under New York traffic, “Let me drive you home. Please.”

Instead of asking why, why does he care, why does he want to, if the safest place is away from you then leave me alone, what you say is a mildly whiny, “You don’t know where I live.”

“I’ll put the address in my phone,” Bucky says, calm and low as if to placate you but you’re well past that point now. You’re crying openly on the street like a lunatic as Bucky gently takes your hand and leads you towards his bike, manhandles you onto it, clicks a helmet on over your head. It feels cruel for him to be this soft after so ruthlessly tearing you apart, but you suppose it’s better than being left alone in the street like he never cared at all.

When you pull up to your apartment building Bucky kills the engine and leans in close to you before you have a chance to jump off and run away. You think, surely he’s not about to kiss me right now and you really hate the part of you that hopes he does, but he doesn’t. He just leans in close and whispers into your helmet, “They could be watching your place, after what happened. I’m so sorry.”

You close your eyes. Bucky’s right, this will never stop, but that doesn’t mean you want to face it alone. Your whole life has been carved out for you only, but just once you thought maybe you could live it with someone else. That’s not a life for you to have, it seems, so you take a deep breath through snotty tears and nod, say, “I can handle it,” because you know you can. You’ll have to.

“I think-“ Bucky starts but falters, bites his lip blanched white before continuing, “They might leave you alone if you make it clear I’m not in your life anymore.”

“You can’t ask me to do that,” you say, and all the resolve you just gathered is shattered as instantly as you found it. You’re crying again because fuck, nothing has ever hurt like this has, from the inside where you can’t find it or heal it or stop it so it just sucks the life out of you one painful second at a time.

“You have to, honey,” Bucky says, and you want to punch him for it. The way he talks to you like he loves you, like he cares, but he can’t if he’s making you do this. Break your own heart to save his. “Scream at me, send me away. They won’t need to target you then.”

“You’re cruel,” you say, pulling away from him. You don’t want to touch him anymore, can’t stand to be this close so you trip off the bike and stumble down the street. Bucky stares after you, his own eyes teary and face screwed up in genuine pain. It could never compare to the sick feelings in your stomach as you take a deep breath and scream, “Go away, Bucky. Fucking leave me alone and never come back or I’ll fucking kill you, you hear me? Fuck off, and don’t come back.”

You can’t help the sob that rips from you, threatening to buckle your knees and break you right on the sidewalk. Bucky is looking at you like you’ve just stuck a knife in his chest but he asked you to, he keeps asking and taking and it’s always you that ends up hurt. You leave him on the street, stumble up the stairs to your apartment and sink to the floor as soon as the door clicks shut behind you. It’s dark in your apartment, nothing but streetlights outside casting shadows on furniture he never touched, but it still feels like he’s haunting you just the same.

Bucky’s bike revs to life and he tears away, the sound ripping straight through and down the street. It leaves you hollowed out, a burnt-through husk curled up on your hardwood floor. You know you’ll never hear that sound again.

****

For your entire life it’s always been you against the world. The only person you could ever trust is yourself, the only one who’s going to look out for you is you and you can’t remember a time where you didn’t think this way. Maybe it’s nature, maybe it’s nurture, but it’s how you’ve always seen the world.

However, you’re only now starting to feel what being truly alone is actually like.

Bucky’s contact lies open on your phone, but you don’t press call. You won’t. He pushed you away for your own ‘safety,’ for his own fear, and you’ll have to learn to live with his choice. Even though you still love him and always will, you can’t have him and you’ll just have to be ok with that. So you leave this contact photo up on your phone, resting on your coffee table beside your open laptop. You’ve got the input feed of the bug you planted in your dad’s kitchen open, chunky headphones on, scrolling through the audio from the past few days since you’d last seen him.

Your heart is broken by the first man you’ve ever let into your life and the only other person who knows you and who you trust, you’re currently spying on. Now, for the first time, you truly have no one left.

Focusing on work has always been an escape for you, and even when your life is in pieces around you and your heart looks no different, work still pulls through. Even if that work is your own father and the inane conversations he has with himself about the baseball teams on TV, or the calls he makes to his vet friends, or the late-night renditions of ABBA songs you remember well from your childhood. A file lies open on your coffee table with your father’s name on it and pages of notes you’ve made from nearly one hundred hours of audio recordings. You hope beyond hope that you’re just paranoid, and that this time when you go digging you don’t find anything at all.

The only thing you’ve noticed so far is your dad makes a lot of phone calls. They’re long, with a lot of names thrown around you don’t recognise as being his friends or anyone from work he’s mentioned to you before. You write them all down to look up later, but you’ve got to go meet a client so you shut everything down and collect your notes in the file. You hide them, just in case, and grab your leather jacket before you leave. You still have rent to pay. The world goes on around you despite everything being turned upside down, almost as if Bucky never happened at all.

You leave via the back of the building, to come out onto the street closest to the subway station. Usually smokers hang out around there so you aren’t surprised to see two men leaning against the wall, but you are surprised when they star following you down the alley. At this point you’re an old hand at being followed, and the petty part of you brain thinks in Bucky’s direction, see? Doesn’t matter if you’re here or not, dumbass. You sigh to yourself and plan to give them the run around once you clear the alley, but you don’t get a chance to.

From behind you hear a couple of solid thunks, a groan, a muttered curse from one of the men and then one final thunk before silence. You turn around, half afraid of who you’re going to meet once you do and half annoyed because you think you might know who it is. Sure enough, standing there in her leather jacket and a rusted metal pipe from the dumpster in her grip, is Natasha.

She blows a stray strand of hair out of her face and says, “Fancy seeing you here.”

“So he’ll break up with me but will still have me followed,” you say, folding your arms over your chest. Natasha shrugs and you mutter, “Figures.”

“I am always the first to say James is an idiot,” Natasha says, twirling the pipe like a baton in her delicate hands. She grins at you and says, “James is an idiot.”

“I’m aware,” you grit out, glaring at the red-head. “What are you doing here?”

“Making sure you don’t end up as Hydra mince-meat,” Natasha says, “What does it look like?”

“Doing whatever Bucky says even when it’s stupid,” you say. Natasha doesn’t like that, her bright grin dropping into a scowl as she steps up to you. Small, but with a clearly lethal weapon in her hands if the unconscious bodies behind her are anything to go by, she jabs the tip of the pipe into your chest and forces you a step backwards.

“James always has good intentions, even if his logic is sometimes flawed.” She drops the pipe, letting it clang to the floor between you as if to punctuate her saying, “Besides, James didn't tell me to do anything. I volunteered.”

“Why?” you ask, sneering slightly. “I think we both know you don’t trust me, or like me, and you make it very hard to like you.”

Natasha smiles at that, and you hate the face she makes every time you say something she ‘approves’ of - condescending, like she doesn’t expect you to have brain cells and is surprised every time you do. She says, very solemn despite the smile in her eyes, “I owe you.”

That makes you pause. Instantly, like you’re right back in that bar. You can see her groaning body struggling to stand after being thrown into a wall. Rumlow pointing a gun at her back, the blood-thirst emanating off him in waves. Your own hand, as if detached from your body, flinging the knife across the room into his neck before he can put a bullet in Natasha’s.

You swallow thickly, shake your head and say, “No you don’t.”

“I do,” she insists. She steps forward with her hand out, beckoning her fingers like she wants you to hand her something. You just stare at her empty palm for a few seconds before she clicks her tongue and says, “Phone.”

You hand it over without thinking, which was definitely stupid. But Natasha just types away quickly before giving it back and you see you have a new contact with her name attached entered into your phone.

“If you ever need anything,” she says, and taps your phone screen with her nail, “call me.”

It was only minutes ago you were sitting on your couch scrolling through audio from your tapped father’s kitchen thinking you’ve never been more alone in your life. Yet here you are, looking at a helping hand outstretched from the last person you expected it to come from. Your fingers shake slightly as you tuck your phone into your back pocket, and Natasha smiles at you like she understands.

“Thank you,” you say, and you hope she knows you genuinely do mean it.

Natasha nods, then says, “Get out of here, alright? I have to clean this up.”

You suppose that’s Natasha speak for ‘your welcome,’ so you leave her to it. The whole client meeting you can’t focus properly, too busy trying to decide if you feel safer or more afraid at having one of the scariest women you know watching your apartment. By the end of the day, your conclusion is that if Natasha is going to be in your life, its probably best she’s on your side rather than against it.

When you get home that afternoon there is no sign of the two guys Natasha knocked out, nor is she anywhere to be seen. You can’t help but feel watched, though, as you enter your building and climb the stairs. She’s a busy woman and you know she can’t be watching you all the time but you still feel her green eyes on the back of your neck - its not an altogether uncomfortable sensation. That’s something to unpack later, you think, as you collapse on the couch.

You try to resist, but as soon as you sit down and close your eyes the urge to forget about the case you’ve just taken on and look into your own hunches grows too strong. You get up again and fish out your dad’s file again from your hiding place, bringing it back to the couch to flip open. The list of names you’ve been compiling is at the top, scribbled in messy handwriting as you listened to your dad’s one-sided conversations. You tallied up how many times the same name had been mentioned and in what context, however it had been hard to decipher what your dad was talking about with only half the story.

You decide to go looking into the most mentioned name - more of a title, really. Somebody your dad calls Chief shows up in almost every single conversation he has over the phone, and when you were going through the audio it dredged up some strange, suppressed childhood memory. You used to hear him talking to guys downstairs when you were doing your homework, and you always thought he called them ‘chief’ as a nickname or weird, macho term of endearment like how kids in your class would call each other ‘bro’.

Maybe, he was only talking to one guy. You were going to find out.

Starting at your dad’s job, you scroll through their website and LinkedIn profiles to find any link to the name ‘Chief.’ He works as a security guard for a chain of clubs in the city so you are doubtful, and sure enough nothing really comes up to peak your interest. Your dad really only has one other major outlet to look into and that’s the VA, so you have to swallow past the dirty feeling of investigating suffering vets and start scrolling through the website for the Brooklyn VA group attached to the medical centre.

It’s all wholesome stuff and nothing of interest to your snooping at all until you get to a photo gallery from four years ago. It’s dedicated to commemorating the Brooklyn VA and New York Police Department workshop day promoting mental health for vets and servicemen. There are a bunch of photos of group activities and the lunch put on by the VA, and you spot your dad in a couple of them. You’re about to click off when you find one where your dad is posed with another vet and a very official, very dressed up cop. Nothing you haven’t seen at least forty of before in this gallery, but it’s the caption which makes you pause.

It reads, Some of the Brooklyn VA’s finest with NY Chief of Police. It has to be a coincidence, the man’s job title and nothing more. He’s tall, broad, with sandy blonde hair turning grey under his police hat. There are more medals than you can count pinned to his uniform and even in this grainy photo you can tell he would squash your dad like an ant if he gave the Chief of Police a reason to. You’ve never paid attention to this before, steering clear of cops whenever you can, but you find yourself googling him as soon as you can pull yourself away from his mile-long stare.

As soon as the NYPD profile on the Chief of Police loads, your blood turns to ice. You want to say you’re crazy, you’re crazy, you’re paranoid, but name one time your paranoia had led you wrong? Two strange coincidences don’t happen back to back, no matter how disconnected they may appear. Two worlds you never thought you would know, let alone be watching them collide, stare up at you from your computer screen. You can hear Steve’s voice like he’s sitting right next to you, saying “It is strange we haven’t heard anything from Pierce,” and right under a professional portrait of the Chief of Police is his name burning into the back of your eyelids - Alexander Pierce.

You shove your laptop onto the coffee table and stand, pacing back and forth in front of your couch. Scraping a hand through your hair and pulling half of it out of your head in the process, you try to reason your way out of connecting these dots. They’re barely dots, their echoes of dots - so your dad took a photo with the Chief of Police four years ago and he refers to someone he knows as ‘Chief’ as a nickname and Steve mentioned Pierce was someone in Hydra and the Chief of Police happened to be named Alexander Pierce. So what, right?

“Ok, ok, ok, ok,” you say to yourself, rushed and manic. You’ll just ask your dad. He’s your dad, he was never supposed to hide anything from you so why would he start now? If you just ask he might-

You don’t get to finish your thought. Three loud knocks ring through your empty apartment, your doorbell chiming impatiently straight afterwards. You stare at the door with your heart in your throat, long enough for them to ring the doorbell again and a loud, male voice to call out your full name. Someone you don’t recognise, yet they know where you live. You approach the door on silent feet and look through the peephole, reaching for the baseball bat you keep behind a pot plant as you do.

Standing outside are two men in suits, one of whom is looming at the peephole and making stupid faces while his college rolls his eyes and attempts to hold him back. Through the door, you ask, “Who is it? What department are you with?”

“I’m Special Detective James Rhodes and this is my partner, Special Detective Tony Stark,” the unimpressed cop says, elbowing his colleague out of the way who is still trying to look through the wrong side of the peephole. Holding up a badge and gesturing for his partner to do the same, Detective Rhodes says, “We’re with the FBI, ma’am.”

“Shit,” you say, before realising you said that out loud. Your hand feels numb where you grip your baseball bat tightly, and you decide in that moment you have to be dreaming. No way has the events of the past fifteen minutes taken place.

The guy who must be Detective Stark laughs and says, “Shit is right. Let us in, ma’am, we need to ask you some questions.”

You look back at the coffee table laden with copious notes on your father and your open laptop, Chief of Police Alexander Pierce’s face staring back at you. An omen, you think, but it would be even more suspicious if you asked them to wait to clean everything up. Your heart-stopping, life-changing, maybe-discovery will have to wait.

You slide off the chain and unlock your deadbolt, opening the door for the two FBI agents. They walk in without another word, and it really hits you then. It doesn’t matter what Bucky does now, if he leaves you and never comes back or if he never left at all - you’re in this, now. And now you’ll pay the price.

#bucky barnes x reader #bucky x reader #bucky barnes x reader fic #bucky x reader fic #bucky barnes fic #bucky fic #reader insert fic #pov fic #biker!bucky #biker!bucky au #biker au #avengers fic #marvel fic #bucky barnes #natasha romanoff #11 hours #heheheheeeee

523 notes · View notes

invisibleanonymousmonsters · 4 years

Text

Mobster!Steve Rogers - Pt. II

PART 1

(Or you’ll be super confused.)

Y/N got lost in the painting before her. There was a tall flute of champagne in her grasp, but she had been getting so engrossed in the artwork that she kept forgetting she even had it.

It was Thursday night after work. Almost all of the galleries in New York would have open receptions that included free wine and hors d’oeurves. Y/N had a bad day at work, and decided to treat herself and try to calm down with art and alcohol.

Her eyes glanced around the gallery as she moved on to another painting. This gallery was definitely swankier than the others in the area. Y/N even had to stop her jaw from dropping when she overheard a potential buyer ask for a price and the curator gave a number in the thousands, as if it was no big deal. Well, Y/N guessed it wasn’t a big deal to the rich.

“Hi,” a voice said from behind Y/N.

She slightly jumped – not enough for anyone to notice – and turned around.

There was an older man smiling expectantly at her. He was well dressed and clearly one of the people at the gallery who could actually afford the art.

Yet everything about him felt off, sleazy. He was too confident, too sure of himself. It wasn’t charming. It was off putting.

“Hello,” Y/N replied with indifference before taking a sip of champagne.

“I’ve been trying to look at the art all night. But it seems you keep distracting me.”

Y/N was grateful she’d swallowed her champagne, because she snorted a laugh at the stupid pickup line.

“Is that so?” She made sure to make her tone sound as bored as possible.

Maybe her sheer lack of enthusiasm would scare him away.

“How about we get out of here, grab some real drinks?”

“No, thank you.” Y/N turned back to the paintings and took another sip.

“No?” He leaned forward so he was in her vision once again.

“Yes, that’s what I said.” She raised an eyebrow in challenge.

“Ah… I see. You have a boyfriend.”

Y/N couldn’t stop herself from rolling her eyes. She turned to him once again. “No, I don’t have a boyfriend.” Then she got herself riled up. She’d had a bad day and therefore this man was out of luck. “Why is it that men can’t seem to respect the word ‘no’? It doesn’t matter if I do or do not have a boyfriend. I’m not interested. And that should be enough.”

“So you’re one of those girls…”

Y/N closed her eyes for a moment. She knew she shouldn’t take the bait. She knew that! But this idiot of a man was making it so hard not to verbally destroy him.

“One of those girls?” She challenged. Her eyes flickered around, making sure they hadn’t gained an audience of any sort. After all, this was a fancy establishment and the last thing she wanted to do was cause a scene.

“Man-hater. Acts offended whenever a guy tries to compliment her. I swear, men can’t even talk to women without getting accused of being a predator.”

He was starting to sound more irritated and angry as he went on.

Y/N’s fire was suddenly extinguished when her survival instincts kicked in.

She felt the fear all women felt when men became unnecessarily angry.

It didn’t matter if she wanted to have a night alone, looking at artwork. She needed to leave before this stranger really caused a scene – or worse, he got physical.

Y/N threw back the rest of her champagne and smoothly placed it on the tray of a passing server. She made moves to quickly walk past him.

Her heart pounded when she felt him following her retreating steps.

“I’m not some creep you know?” He practically hissed at her.

The man was clearly just trying to make himself feel better now. And in the process, he was making Y/N feel more and more unsafe and uncomfortable.

“You don’t have to treat me like some predator.”

Y/N chose the route of ignoring now, just wanting to escape as soon as possible. She hoped he wouldn’t follow her outside. Then she’d have to order a car, not wanting to risk jumping on the subway and getting stuck in a car with him.

“Excuse me,” a voice suddenly interrupted from behind both of them.

Y/N froze. She swore she knew that voice.

She turned around to find Steve Rogers standing in a classic suit and tie. Beside him was another man, just as handsome and tall and buff man, with shaggy brunette hair and scruff.

“Mind your own business,” the man answered, not doing a very good job of hiding his annoyance from the interruption.

Steve didn’t like that. “I own this gallery, so it’s very much my problem.”

Y/N shifted her weight.

Steve had yet to truly look at her. However, his companion was trying to assess how distressed she was from the situation.

“And I don’t appreciate you making my patrons uncomfortable. Please leave.” There was no room for argument in his tone.

The man didn’t appreciate be brushed aside. He took an aggressive step towards the two men. “You’ve got some balls talking to me that way.”

But before he could take another step or say another word, Steve’s friend stepped forward with an expression that instantly convinced Y/N that he was about to kill the guy.

Steve quickly put a hand on his friend’s chest. “I’ll handle this, Buck.”

Buck. As in Bucky? Y/N remembered hearing that name. Steve used to mention him in their conversations all the time. He was Steve’s best friend.

He immediately stood down. Steve leaned in and added something in a whisper that Y/N couldn’t catch.

In that short-lived romance with Steve, Y/N could never even slightly imagine Steve angry or scary.

But now he looked like a different person.

Y/N finally saw the mobster.

“What is this, some kind of joke?” The man spat right as Steve grabbed his upper arm in a vice-like grip and dragged him away. But he didn’t take him to the main entrance, instead going towards a back exit Y/N didn’t even notice before. Steve managed to do all of this without disrupting any of the guests.

Y/N was now uncomfortable in a completely different way.

She was trying to figure out if she could make a clean getaway.

But Bucky seemed to be reading his mind. “Mind waiting? I know Steve would like to talk to you before you run off again.”

Again.

Had Steve told Bucky about her? The idea of two mobsters sitting around and talking girls brought amusement to Y/N.

“S-Sure,” she didn’t mean to stutter. “Can I get you a glass of champagne? I promise it’ll be the good stuff that we keep hidden away.”

Y/N was taken aback that this man went from looking like he was about commit murder in plain sight to a charming gentleman.

“I’m good. Thank you though.”

He nodded. “Come on.”

She stuttered into step, not sure where he planned on taking her. But for some reason, she blindly followed him anyway.

Bucky led her to a back terrace. It wasn’t open to the public, but still lit to perfection.

An awkward silence settled between them.

“So you’re Bucky, right? The best friend since childhood. The one always pulling him out of fights.”

That earned her a chuckle from him. “That would be correct.”

Then the door opened to the terrace and they both turned to see Steve walking out as he straightened his tie and rebutted his suit.

Bucky turned back to Y/N and gave her a shy smile. “It was nice meeting you, Y/N,” and with that, he walked out of the terrace.

It took her a little too long to realize that she had never given Bucky her name.

Then the same energy that had passed between Y/N and Steve while they were dating returned as if it were only yesterday.

“So…Did you kill him?” Y/N couldn’t help but ask.

“He’s not worth the cleanup.”

Y/N’s eyes widened.

Then Steve broke into an innocent smirk. “I’m messing with you, Y/N.” She blinked at him even saying her name. “I wasn’t sure if you’d remember me. After all, it’s been, like–“

“A year and a half,” Steve finished for her with a jarring amount of confidence.

“Yeah,” she admitted. Though clearly she hadn’t forgotten him at all either.

“You’re kind of hard to forget,” Steve admitted quietly.

Y/N didn’t know how to respond to that, or if she even should. So, she decided to change the subject.

“Do you really own this place?”

He looked around. “Yeah, I always had an affinity for the arts. I don’t run the place or anything. I just make sure it stays in business.”

“Guess that makes sense now that I think about it. You did go to art school after all.”

Steve seemed flattered that she remembered. “Yeah…but then my dad passed right after graduation and I…Well, I was expected to take over the family business.”

“I didn’t know that…I didn’t know that’s how you got to where you are,” Y/N admitted softly.

Steve cleared his throat. “How’ve you been?”

“Umm…fine.” Y/N hated questions like that. No one ever wanted an honest answer. She didn’t get why anyone even bothered asking it.

“Just fine?” Steve prodded, proving that he was one of the people that actually did care about her answer.

Y/N laughed then. “I mean…my life’s pretty much the same since you last saw me.”

God, she probably sounded like such a loser.

“That can’t be true,” Steve tried to argue.

She winced a bit. “Well, it is. Same apartment, same job, same friends–”

“Same boyfriend?”

Y/N stopped and read his face.

Steve instantly regretted his question. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t – I have no place asking you that question.”

“Steve, it’s OK.” Then she sighed. “Same boyfriend,” she confirmed, “as in there isn’t one.”

He looked like he wanted to say something, but was using a lot of restraint?

“What?” Y/N asked.

“Nothing.”

“No, you want to say something,” she said through a smile.

“You don’t want to hear it.” “Well, now I have to know!”

“I just…I don’t get it,” Steve sighed.

“Get what?”

“How no one is worshipping the ground you walk on…”

Y/N rolled her eyes.

“See! You don’t want to hear it.”

Y/N cleared her throat and took a step closer to him. “Had it ever occurred to you that maybe the reason is due to how disappointing men are?”

Steve laughed. “Then I apologize on behalf of men.”

“Why? I wasn’t talking about you.” There was a playfulness in her eyes as she said it.

“Thank you, by the way,” Y/N muttered as she looked at the ground.

“For what?”

“Stepping in back there. I shouldn’t have riled him up. I was stupid – thought I could handle it.”

“It was nothing.” Steve shrugged.

“You and I both know that’s not true.” “I can go finish the job and kill him if it’ll make you feel better,” he offered.

“Steve!”

“What?” He asked innocently.

Then Y/N caught sight of his hands. His knuckles were red and irritated, a few of them were already a little bruised. She assumed that man wouldn’t be harassing any women for a little bit. And the world was better for it.

A chill suddenly went down Y/N’s spine. She wrapped her arms around herself tightly.

“Can I walk you home? Or I can get my driver–”

“Yes,” Y/N answered before he could offer another option.

On the walk home, it was like no time had passed at all. Steve asked Y/N about her job, her friends, and her family, remembering names and specifics details.

Y/N wished her apartment was further away. During their walk, she realized how much she had missed Steve. Yes, they had never defined their relationship or made it official. But they had gotten to know each other so quickly. Not to mention Y/N had immediately felt comfortable and close with him since date one.

“This is you, right?” Steve pointed to her stoop. This wasn’t the first time he’d walked her home.

Y/N fidgeted with her hands in front of her.

“Wanna…uhh…Would you like to come up?” The words spewed out before she even knew what she was trying to ask.

She didn’t know why she bothered asking. Steve was a gentleman, too polite–

“Yes,” he answered almost instantly.

Steve kept his distance as they went up the building stairs. He was even patient as Y/N fumbled to put her keys into the door.

But as soon as Y/N closed her apartment door behind them, Steve was on her.

She didn’t believe it was possible to have a more heated and passionate kiss than the one they had shared in that alley.

Boy, was she wrong.

Steve took charge, made her feel just how much he wanted her.

But then he pulled away and stared into her eyes. “Sorry…I–I…”

“Steve, I swear to god, if you go all nice guy on me now, I will kick your ass.” Y/N gave him a warning look that proved just how serious she was. “My bedrooms that door. So, what are you going to do about it?”

Steve smirked and was back on her.

To Y/N’s surprise, his hands drifted down her waist and then on the outsides of her thighs until they moved to the back and lifted her up.

She giggled at the gesture and wrapped her legs around his waist.

Y/N let out another adorable giggle when Steve slightly ran them into a wall.

“I’m trying to navigate blind in an apartment I’ve never been inside. Give a guy some slack.”

————————————

Y/N awoke with the feeling like last night had been a dream. But the marks on her skin and the lingering feeling assured it that it was very much real. Unfortunately, there wasn’t a sleeping man on the other side of the bed to assure her as well.

Steve was nowhere to be found. Neither were his clothes.

Y/N sighed, trying to figure out how that all made her feel.

Was it for the best? Was she offended? Was she sad? Was she relieved?

Her racing thoughts stopped when she heard noises coming from her kitchen.

She quickly found a pair of shorts and an oversized band t-shirt that was laying around.

Deciding to be very quiet, Y/N slipped out of her room and found Steve in his undershirt from last night and boxers. His missing clothes were folded nicely on top of one of the seats at her counter.

Steve was lost in his own thoughts as he made breakfast.

Y/N leaned against the doorway taking it all in.

She wondered what it would be like for this to become her normal. Steve just looked like he belonged in her kitchen.

Y/N’s throat tightened and her stomach dropped when she realized that she didn’t know what it felt like to share her life with someone like that.

She quickly cleared her throat before the emotions could take over. “Thought you snuck out.”

Steve quickly turned around. “Really think I’d do that?” Y/N shrugged and stepped further into the kitchen. She sat at the kitchen counter and watched in amusement as Steve continued making them breakfast.

“I made coffee already,” he pointed to the filled pot with his spatula.

She nodded and poured herself some.

“Steve…” He quickly turned around and she noticed how sad his blue eyes looked. “Whatever you were about to say…Can we just – Is it OK if we enjoy this just a little bit longer?”

Y/N instantly shut her mouth and nodded. Then she eyed the scrambled eggs, bacon, and toast he’d cooked. “You didn’t have to make me breakfast…”

Steve just gave her a look that said, ‘Of course I fucking did. Why wouldn’t I?’

“Sorry my apartment is so…small.” Y/N apologized softly. She assumed he had not one, but multiple luxurious homes around the world. This place probably seemed like a dingy shoebox in comparison.

Steve looked around with a smile. “I love your apartment. It’s homey and cozy and it feels like you.”

Y/N was so taken aback by his retort that she just blinked at him.

They both ate in a surprisingly comfortable silence. Y/N kept wondering how he did that, how he made her feel so safe with him.

Once Steve was finished, he leaned back in his seat and looked at her patiently. That was the only cue she was going to get.

“I just wanted to say that I’m sorry for how I ended things last time,” she told him gently.

“You shouldn’t be sorry,” Steve corrected. “You did the right thing.”

Y/N’s mouth went dry. “I did?”

“I was selfish. I wouldn’t accept that you aren’t meant for my world. I refused to even consider how dangerous your life would become for just being with me.” Steve shook his head. “I was selfish,” he repeated.

Y/N refused to meet his eyes now. “So…what does that make last night?”

“Last night was…” Steve smiled shyly. “Last night was perfect.”

Y/N eyed him. “But you’re about to tell me that it’s all there’s going to be, aren’t you?”

Steve leaned forward and rubbed his face.

“Y/N, I can’t drag you into my toxic life. I won’t do that to you.” He shook his head at the mere idea. “Y/N… you deserve someone who can be an honest man for you. Someone who’s life isn’t going to get you killed.”

“You’ve never lied to me, Steve.”

“But I will. Because if I fully opened up that side of me, you’d never look at me the same. I can’t lie to you and I can’t terrify you with the reality. Don’t you get it?”

Y/N’s eyes glazed over, but she made herself keep it together. “So, what do we have then?”

Steve sighed. “I guess we just have the past.”

She scoffed at him. “After last night, with the way we feel when we’re together…You’re not even willing to try?”

“No, Y/N. I’m not willing to risk your safety.”

Then he was up, taking his clothes to the bathroom with him.

He came out a few minutes later, his hair fixed and his clothes looked like they could’ve come right from the cleaners.

“Please don’t hate me,” he finally whispered.

That’s when Y/N couldn’t keep the tears back any longer. She laughed from both the idea of hating him and being embarrassed for crying.

“Steve, I don’t think I could ever hate you.”

Then he couldn’t stop himself. Steve pulled Y/N into his arms, holding her tightly to his chest.

“I wish things were different,” he spoke into her hair. “I’m sorry, Y/N.”

And with that, he kissed the top of her head and made his escape.

It was Y/N that pushed him away the first time. To protect her heart, her morals, probably her life.

But now it was Steve pushing her away. Not because he didn’t love her, but because he had to keep her safe.

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

And you all thought you were getting a second chance at a fluffy, happy ending...

Part III

#mobster!steve rogers #mobster!steve rogers x reader #mafia!steve rogers #mafia!steve rogers x reader #gangster!steve rogers #gangster!steve rogers x reader #steve rogers reader insert #steve rogers AU #mafia marvel au #invisible anonymous monsters #invisibleanonymousmonsters #steve rogers fanfic #gangster marvel au #mobster marvel au #steve rogers angst #steve rogers x reader

2K notes · View notes

pietropatrol · 4 years

Text

Breaking the One Damn Rule (Part 11)

Read Part 10

A/N: Happy Fic Friday! Two weeks in a row! It’s also my birthday tomorrow and will hopefully be celebrating with a charcuterie/cheese board and wine!

Sure, you’re 100% down with having Pietro Maximoff’s baby—you couldn’t imagine anyone else fathering your children. But neither of you planned for this, you’re not even supposed to be together according to the Avengers. Finding out while Pietro was away on a mission was bad enough and now telling him during an attack, with your future family in danger, was not what you had in mind; and this is exactly why they forbid Pietro from having serious relationships in the first place. Whoops.

Pairing: Pietro x Reader

Warning: Kidnapping children, trauma, language

Words: 1,500ish

The skies had opened up over the city of New York City that early evening and never let up. An even bigger storm brewing behind the horizon of skyscrapers. Rain pelted against your window as a streak of lightning lit up your dim hospital room, followed by a sharp clap of thunder. Sharp enough to wake the dead.

Sharp enough to wake you from your comatose state.

Your eyelids felt like they had been glued together. When you opened them, they were out of focus and it took a moment for your eyes to adjust. Where were you? Where was Pietro?

Flowers covered every open counter space and a dozen of assorted baskets littered the floor. There was one that contained muffins and your stomach growled at the sight.

Your hand strayed down to your abdomen to rub your bump and it never reached one. Your stomach, though not as flat as it had been prior to pregnancy, was flat. All of a sudden it became hard to breathe and something was beeping in the distance.

What had happened? Where was Pietro? Where was your baby? When you tried to sit up it, a tube stopped you from ripping your blanket off.

You looked down at your hands to see an IV and a pulse oximeter. You were in the hospital? How long had you been here?

It didn’t matter, you had to get out. You had to get to Pietro and your baby. Your baby had to be with him, and safe, right? You ripped out the offending tubing, and swung your legs off the side of the bed, and pushed off.

The door to your room opened and your gaze met the familiar fatherly face of one Clint Barton.

“Y/N!” Clint dropped the cup of coffee in his hand and rushed over as you began to teeter. “You’re awake!”

“Where’s my baby?” Your voice was low and shaking, you could barely hear yourself. As if you were already afraid that you knew the answer.

“Please lay back down, Y/N. You’re looking a bit pale.” Clint tried to guide you back to the bed.

You jerked your arms away, leaving a smear of blood on Clint’s arm. “No! Tell me, Clint.”

“Only if you get back in bed.” Clint saw the manic look in your eyes and was afraid that if he said anything you would fall apart before him.

You lowered yourself onto the edge of your bed. Your baby had to be with Pietro. That could be the only possibility.

Clint gently pushed your back into the bed, covering you back up with the blanket. He swung a chair next to your bed and took a deep breath. “Y/N, what’s the last thing you remember?”

Your memory was murky and you tried to grasp onto any piece of memory. “Hydra attacking the restaurant. I fired Tony’s repulsor hoping to cause enough of a distraction.”

“Y/N,” Clint took your hand, “You’ve been comatose for almost a month.”

“A month?” you echoed back, “I’ve missed that much time? How’s Pietro handling being a dad on his own?”

Clint took a deep breath. He did not want to be the one to tell you, but Pietro and Wanda were across the world if he had to guess, which left him as the next person in line to tell you. “Y/N, we found you… alone. Hydra left you to die, Pietro found you just in time.”

“By alone you mean…” Your voice caught in your throat.

“I’m sorry, Y/N. Pietro and Wanda are out looking for them right now. As soon as you stabilized, they started following any lead they could. Last we heard they were in Nepal. I will have Nat send out a message that you woke up.” Clint squeezed your hand. “I can’t even imagine what your feeling right now, but we’re all here for you and they’re going to find them. Pietro and Wanda are strong on their own as is, but together and out for vengeance, they are unstoppable. When we first met them, when they were under Hydra, they gave us a run for our money. They also took Vision with them.”

“When you say looking for them—”

“It was twins, we don’t know how to explain it. Wanda saw it in your head.”

You swallowed the tightness in your throat. “I’ll take your word for it.” The hollow chuckle that bubbled out of you terrified Clint. “Clint?”

“Yes?”

“I want you and Nat to train me. I’m not going to sit idly by.”

Clint saw the spark of anger in your eyes and the determination set in your jaws. He wasn’t sure how to react. He could handle crying, but this was rage brewing. Much like your other half, he assumed you were a force to reckoned with when provoked. “You need to heal before anything.”

That would buy him some time. Pietro should be able to get back to you before then. Clint wouldn’t dare do anything to piss Pietro off and letting you hurt yourself would definitely do it.

“Heal?” You questioned.

Clint gave you a perplexed look. “Y/N, you were cut open.”

“It doesn’t feel like it.” You didn’t feel any pain.

“Maybe it’s the shock?”

You pressed your lower abdomen. “I had my appendix taken out in college, and that hurt. Now… now I feel nothing.”

“Um, I’m going to get your nurse.” Clint shot off the chair and out the door.

****

The moment Pietro received word you had woken up he made plans to get back to you. Wanda wanted to come too, but Pietro wanted her to keep looking for the twins. They were in deep, trying to find Hydra hideouts and it had taken almost three weeks for Pietro to get Nat’s message.

He practically ran back to you, save for the ocean he had to get over. He took one flight and started running as soon he got out of the terminal.

Pietro had prepared to see you broken and inconsolable. Steve was waiting by the elevator as Pietro arrived. “Cap?”

“Welcome back, anything?”

“Nope, look I’d love to chat, but I need to get to Y/N.” Pietro turned to walk down the hallway to your room, but Steve stopped him.

“She’s not in her room. Come with me.” Steve lead Pietro back to the elevator and to the 15th floor.

“Why is she on the training floor?” Pietro’s jaw tightened. He thought he had left you in good hands. “She should be resting.”

“You can bring that up with her. We tried.” Steve pulled him over to one of the simulation mazes.

Pietro looked at the tracking monitors to see you suited up, working your way through the maze with Clint and Nat. “Are you fucking crazy?! Get her out of there!”

“This isn’t her first go.” Steve motioned to the hologram with your stats. Not as good as Clint and Nat’s, obviously, but you had excellent marksmanship and your hand to hand combat was ranked above Tony’s out of the suit. “You’re free to end the simulation—”

Pietro slammed his hand on the stop button and glared at Steve. “I am not happy about this.”

“Clearly.” Steve grimaced.

The lights went on in the simulation maze. Making it hard to see, you had been doing a night test. “Steve, what the fu—”

“Draga!” That voice made your heart skip a beat. You didn’t even see him coming. In a split second, you were in his arms being squeezed tightly. Your face nestled into his chest.

“Piet.” You melted into him, having to bury your tears deeper and deeper. Now was not the time.

“You should be resting,” he softly growled in your ear.

“I missed you too,” you whispered back.

Pietro let go after a lingering kiss to your temple as he breathed you in again. “Seriously, explain. Clint, I put you in charge of her care, and I come home to find she’s been simulating?”

“Pietro, don’t be mad. I begged.” You finally got a good look at him. He was rougher around the edges and he had grown a slight beard. If it hadn’t been caused by your current circumstances, you would have dwelled longer on how ruggedly handsome he looked.

“Oh, that makes it so much better.” Pietro gave you a look. “You need to be taking it easy.”

“I’m fully healed and I’m not going to get hurt,” you countered.

“The last time I saw you, you were on death’s doorstep. It can happen again. It will happen again if you try to get involved with this.” The pain was evident in Pietro’s eyes. He had spent so much time trying to block out the image of you basically lifeless. It would haunt him forever.

“Seriously, I can’t get hurt.” You pulled out a small dagger from your thigh holster and ran it across your palm before Pietro could figure out what you were doing.

“Draga!” He made to grab your wrist, but you turned away. Crimson pooled in your cupped hand for a moment and you wiped it away on your pant leg to reveal no wound.

Pietro grabbed your hand to examine it closely. “What the hell?”

****

TAG LIST

@mcfuccfairy@hannah1234543@fandomstucklover87love@aegonsgarden@superavengerimagines@racheltheclumsy @little-hufflepuff-badger@sherlocklover123@secondxreality@electricstar13@dusknightmare@pastell-niall @lesh-targaryen @erreneous@nerdyfangirl4lyf@pietrosprintesa@geminifangirl3@rageofcaliban@psycopathic-turtle@extremelyintroverted@themightycrybaby@zoziemoore@wincensfw@goldenfairytaleprincess@weehawkendawngunsdrawnyouron@cuteykittens1313 @saysomethingorimdone@hogwarts-mischief@kayzie-chu @barely-emily @vantastic-booty@wonderxluster@itsjusthaawo @mikey-girl12 @are-you-in-the-game@chameerah@wzndamaximoff@linellin@rainbowtheninja@hipsterhipster-wannabe@ofbandsandyoutubers@eternalanxious@soldierstans @geebearway @sokoviantrash@blubberwhalecurdlesnoothings @mermaid-princess-wannabe@everlasting9@random0213@erissapphire@softhor @allyzaq@genjisbuttfriend @mcusebstan @lexiethegiantslayer@pebblesz892@wellfuckbuck@marvelbase001 @reckllesslyareuforreal @mischief-managed1987 @captain-purpledinonatalyimagirl@armyprincess02 @mottergirl99@cupcakelover615@aweways@flirtswithdanger@lanie103@rebbie444@iwanttorunawaytohogwarts@draconicuchiha@callme-crowley@jessicajjones@doctorwho2013@onepiecelover1223@deadpools-wife@shannonxbarnes @justapolinaris@dont-fillintheblank@imaginary-world-of-mine @warriorsofasgardia @mymindplayshopscotch @tachibubu @cringedyIan @theawesomefrenchie@hortonhearsahoeblr@lavelay@nothinghappenswithouthope @potterpineapple1975@infj-universe72@dancingpizzasarelife @galacyan @nuitrhodes@seb-satann@leoniford@ciaramcgeesprat@hiimangelique@bywonater@umwhatandrea@riverpotterimagines@iwanttorunawaytohogwarts@araceli91103@flirtswithdanger@harrisonholland@weirdestmentalityphilosopher @supervalcsi@somethingwitty-somethingsweet @destiel-is-bae-18 @123louis-blog @bloody-doctor @skybaby-potter @galacyan @jollyholymoly@ginger-wayward-assbutt @avatar-moist@brokensurvivor@flubbernuggets @red-writer13 @capsicle-steve-rogers @broken-pieces @punkdoor @hiding-in-the-backgroundx-x@silverwhispersandash@geeksareunique@serenastark@straightasdeanwinchester @nina-winchester4life@bywonater@sh00kbois@tayrae515@xdsockmonkey@kaitmcu@willowruemellark@weirdestmentalityphilosopher@curlycals@justahappylilblog@sameemaximoff @alonna-oxoxoxsavvvcobainnn @rosaquinn @futzingclint @princess-unicorn124 @racheltheclumsy @kenzie-cold-greenkale@mottergirl99 @snailhoard@thisismysecrethappyplace@sweetpeas-serpent-princess@multifandomphenomena @hoeposey@dmv49 @tomhollandhasnolips @waytoobsessedwithmyfandoms@minuteandahalf @igoldieloxi @lovelydreamer-2000 @justahappylilblog @ciochesono @the-fandom-ness @ithoughtfullyglitterycollection @heartbeats-wildly @erinsquinns

117 notes · View notes

davidmann95 · 3 years

Note

How'd you like the new Death Metal special (and, more broadly, this week's comics)?

pretenderoftheeast said: Comics this week (12/9/2020)?

Batman: Black and White #1: The first of a platter of anthologies today:

* The Tynion/Moore story is predictably fire.

* JHIII is JHIII. Also he does a really nice surprising story about how Batman’s relating to this moment of the time, but let’s be real, you’re here because JHIII, and be assured he is JHIII as helllll here and it’s great.

* Dini/Kubert plays as the former building a story around accommodating requests by the latter, but that’s not a bad thing, and glad to see Kubert’s kept up the pace since his DK3/Up In The Sky creative rejuvenation.

* Ok I’m a philistine who has no idea what that Emma Rios thing was about but it was certainly pretty.

* Wilson doing Batman is surprisingly disappointing, but Smallwood doing Batman definitely isn’t.

DC’s Very Merry Multiverse: Not a very merry time! I hate to say it given this should be so geared to my interests, but this is the weakest overall effort we’ve gotten from one of DC’s quarterly anthologies in a good long while, at least among those I’ve picked up. Not to say it’s a dud, there are several nifty little stories in here including the much-hyped first appearance of Kid Quick (destined to become the Flash of Future State) and really almost everything here reaches ‘pretty okay’. But for $10, and a creative space that should reach so much more than ‘pretty okay’, I don’t know that this is a justifiable recommendation unless you’re understandably desperate for all the President Superman content you can get your hands on.

Tales of the Dark Multiverse: Flashpoint: I’m surprised I got it too, but the preview grabbed me and in practice it was a fun, mean little high-concept adventure of Reverse Flash being a total cock.

Wonder Woman #768: Credit where it is due, this has been getting a bit better in its closing stretch.

Dark Nights: Death Metal: The Last Stories of the DC Universe: This ruled. Obviously there was the one story folks are most interested in, but almost all of the tales in here lived up to being a ‘final’ story of sorts for their leads.

* The Titans bookenders were pretty nice even if it’s hilarious that their big rallying cry basically amounts to “by god, our book may be shit, but we’re valuable IP so we’ll never be cancelled!”

* Green Lantern is basically an epilogue to Johns’ run sans the baggage of bringing back Johns (that we get in two weeks with Secret Origin and god forgive me I’m so looking forward to that), and definitely one of my favorite efforts from Lemire.

* Wonder Woman’s the stinker in what’s nominally her own event. I can parse the roots of most bad Superman stories one way or another, but I just can’t understand what’s behind most bad Wonder Woman stories beyond that the people handling it simply don’t give a shit.

* Astonishingly, the Green Arrow and Black Canary chapter in here might be my favorite of the bunch? Simone at her best, a really sweet slice of playful, sincere romance about two characters I’m not by default invested in but ended up quite caring for here.

* This Aquaman story is everything I generally hate in Aquaman stuff, a big long maudlin speech about the weight of the world as he swims through a black featureless ocean, except here between the real heart Sebela brings to the script and the mood artist Christopher Mooneyham manages to evoke, it all clicks together.

* The Batman Family story feels like it can’t quite make its pacing work, but it’s still a heartfelt little ode to the theoretical power of the concept.

* Hey, that Mark Waid guy? Turns out he can write him some Superman. It’s not perhaps the total barnburner you might have expected - I imagine he’s saving his biggest hits for later - but it’s a very solid execution of a gangbusters concept, and Manapul steals the show with absolutely sensational, gorgeous scenic Superman imagery. I’mma say 60/40 in favor of them doing a Superman project together on either a main book or Black Label (I know Manapul was supposed to be locked into a creator-owned thing with Scott Snyder but that was ages ago), because this is a paring that’s yielded some immediate results and I imagine everyone knows it. And given my upbringing, nice to see a big, iconic, beautiful Superman story with him rocking the mullet.

Anonymous said: Haha holy shit Crossover is literally Cates taking that page where Spawn meets all the corporate heroes locked up and spinning it out into a series

Anonymous said: Does Crossover #2 hold the crown for the funniest, dumbest, most baffling opening page ever?

Crossover #2: Readers I’m not too big to admit I laughed my ass off at the first page, and at least a little bit for the actual reasons intended. The sense of homaging that Spawn scene in the context of a book about “Gosh, isn’t IP the best folks?”, or Cates’ dialogue...(shall we say) proving why he likes the concept of ellipses enough to name a character after them aside though? That it’s already crossed the line with its central metaphor from “indefensibly insensitive in its ridiculous self-centeredness” to “out-and-out cartoonishly offensive” somehow actually makes it more rather than less palatable; there’s no longer the secondhand embarrassment of waiting to see how bad Cates is going to handle this, it simply is the worst it could possibly be and readers have to accept and perhaps revel in the sight of him stepping on rake after rake. I cannot wait for him to finally give an interview on this book where he explains what the hell he thinks this looks like, and I hope my dad keeps somehow enjoying it forever because I totally wanna see what pit this descends to next.

Penultiman #3: This is absolutely agonizing and probably the most relatable take on a ‘superman’ ever.

Home Sick Pilots #1: A new creator-owned book from Dan Watters (whose big two credits include the stupendous “Afraid of America” with John Paul Leon in the last Batman Secret Files, and the upcoming Future State: Superman/Wonder Woman) and Peter Cannon’s Caspar Wijngaard, this new book set against the backdrop of a Californian high school’s punk scene in 1994 describes itself as “Power Rangers meets The Shining (yes, really)”. The former influence isn’t much in play yet, but thus far this is a book that merges building tension and freewheeling dopey teen bullshit to an extent that’s subtly impressive as hell, and seems likely to proudly take a place among the current horror comic renaissance.

Warhammer 40,000: Marneus Calgar #3: Ok again I don’t have any experience with this franchise but you’d better believe that cultural osmosis was enough that I popped for BLOOD FOR THE BLOOD GOD! SKULLS FOR THE SKULL THRONE!

King in Black: Namor #1: Kurt Busiek’s return to Marvel...sucks? Such is the power of Knull I guess even if he doesn’t manifest within the actual story here, this is a complete nothing of a comic and I’m not tuning in for issue #2.

Avengers #39: Eh, I’m not liking Aaron Avengers when it gets remotely serious nearly as much as when he’s doing stuff like having them finally help Blade with all those vampires or Captain America assisting with the delivery of an exploding space-baby in the back of a muscle car.

Anonymous said: That new Guardians of the Galaxy was something else. What do you think the odds are that Comic Books, with a decade or two of hindsight, recognizes Ewing as one of the best to ever do it?

Guardians of the Galaxy #9: I lack much context here beyond recalling from an interview that this is Ewing’s way of grappling with the ideas from Steve Englehart’s original unrealized vision of Star-Lord’s character arc, but wherever it stems from this is a hell of a comic.

S.W.O.R.D. #1: This is everything I’ve wanted from the non-Hickman X-books since the moment HoXPoX ended, and so much more, and also it is basically hilarious that Ewing is all but explicitly using his clout to force Marvel to let him to Ultimates3 under a currently cancellation-proof banner. Most importantly of all, Ewing has already mastered the subtle art of writing not merely Magneto, but the infinitely superior Jonathan Hickman Magneto. And good lord Schiti and Gracia, I already knew they were top-tier but these pages’d make a grown man cry.

#Week's Comics #Opinion

32 notes · View notes

brandonxdylan · 3 years

Photo

Omg OK so there’s yet another gay 90210 storyline that I feel compelled to offer commentary on, and this one’s perhaps the most frustrating one of all (which is saying something because none of the gay representation on this show has been what I’d call good, and in fact most of it has only served to make me hate these self-involved heteros even more).  So here we are. It’s season 9, and all the drama is extremely contrived at this point, and you can tell that the writers are basically just pulling ideas out of a hat. What if Val murdered her dad? What if Dylan came back? What if Donna had a heretofore unmentioned cousin who was a pro figure skater and also a pro schemer? It’s from this context that we get “hey, what if Steve’s mom was gay?”  Personally, I’ve always appreciated the continuity with Steve’s family life. His parents are pretty well-rounded characters with full, consistently plausible(ish) backstories, which is more than I can say for half of the regular characters on this show (*cough cough* Noah). Given that, is it random and contrived for Samantha to come out as a lesbian? Yeah, probably. I don’t think this was some grand plan that the writers had been sitting on for nine years, just waiting to reveal. But I don’t really care because it’s also true to life. A lot of people come out in middle age if not later, and this was a post-Ellen world after all. Being a gay celebrity (Steve’s mom is a sitcom star) was no longer unheard of. However, it was still considered a huge risk to come out as gay and still expect to find work (especially if your work was expected to be “family friendly”). So the conflict here is timely, and fairly realistically written. The actress who plays Samantha, Christine Belford, sells it, and there’s a nice sense of empowerment that comes through in her character, who is clearly not willing to tolerate the bullshit box that society wants to put her in. There’s the makings of a truly compelling story here. But of course that’s not what we get, because man, does Steve piss me off in these episodes, and as per fucking usual, the writers completely let him off the hook.  When Samantha first comes out to Steve, he’s shocked. Fair enough. But it’s not long before he begins to place lots of unfair judgment on his mother (despite David trying to talk him down by saying lesbians are valid because two girls making out is a turn on…thanks for that David). Eventually he goes so far as to remind the reporter from a gossip magazine who contacts Steve for comment regarding rumours of his mom’s sexuality that’s he’s adopted. Naturally, Samantha takes this as tacit admission that he’s ashamed of her, as she sees this as being Steve’s way of distancing himself from her and her sordid Lifestyle.™ Which it absolutely is. This is where we get the exchange pictured above in which Samantha justifiably questions Steve’s selfish expectations of her and he comes back with this WAY HARSH slap in the face. He immediately regrets it, but the damage is done. His true feelings are crystal clear.  And to be clear, my issue is not with Steve’s homophobic feelings. I actually think that, especially for the late 90s, Steve’s reaction isn’t that unusual (sad though that may be), and I think there’s lots to be gained from digging into the ways in which latent homophobia can manifest itself in unexpected ways, and how that can cause massive problems within otherwise close families. No, my issue with this episode is with how Steve’s homophobic feelings are resolved. The storyline culminates in Samantha getting fired from her much-hyped comeback sitcom once she’s outed. And it’s not until this happens that Steve finally starts to come around. But this is what pisses me off the most, because right up until then, Steve is only thinking of himself, and how his mother’s sexuality impacts his life. He even goes so far as to question why she adopted him in the first place, asking if it was part of her heterosexual cover up. My good God, this is some hetero nonsense that I simply CAN. NOT. Anyway, when she drops the bomb that she got fired, suddenly Steve becomes protective of her and is furious that she has to suffer such injustice. But…like…BRO. You were literally JUST treating her the same way. The whole thing reads as “you’re my mom, and I can be homophobic and treat you like a pariah, but the rest of the world? HELL NO!”  And honestly, like so many Very Special Episodes of 90210, it’s not the fact that the characters are flawed that’s the issue. The problem is that no one ever learns from their flaws or has the opportunity to grow in a realistic way. The characters are often depicted as having latent (and sometimes straight up blatant) prejudices, and that is okay, because we literally all do. But almost every time, these prejudices only function to give the main characters an opportunity to simply change their mind and get a pat on the back for doing the bare minimum. Steve’s relationship with his mother changes exclusively as a result of external factors completely outside of his control. He doesn’t have to do anything. He barely even apologizes! It totally feels like the show is condoning Steve’s earlier behaviour, which feels pretty retrograde by today’s standards, and I’m sure was not particularly progressive even by 90s standards. It pussyfoots around the complexities of the questions it raises, and to be honest, that always leaves a bit of an icky taste in my mouth, because it seems clear that the issue isn’t being raised out of interest in exploring it - it’s being raised to pose as a problem for the straight characters.  Still, I don’t want to speak for all queer audiences, but I for one am very used to accepting scraps. I mean fuck, this blog literally exists because I projected a non-existent romance between Dylan and Brandon on to the show because queer audiences are so used to having to do the work that most shows won’t in terms of creating queer characters. So to see a show like 90210 actually attempting to address queer issues on TV in the 90s (however shallow and frustrating the end result may be), is still satisfying. It was a worthwhile endeavour, and many similar shows did it well. And as much as I’m tearing into this episode, I’m still glad it exists because even though it provides no answers or legitimate commentary (90210 is weirdly centrist when it comes to political and social issues), it at least acknowledges that gay people exist, and that they can be middle-aged mothers, which is a demographic that doesn’t even get a ton of representation now, let alone in the 90s. Most coming out narratives follow teens or twentysomethings, which is fine, but coming out can happen at any age, especially in the 90s when the stigma was only just starting to lift, and many people who had been closeted for decades felt like they could finally come out. And for all my issues with the way Steve is portrayed, Samantha’s portrayal feels surprisingly tender and sympathetic. But, like so many queer characters, she ultimately shows up only to offer complications for the straight people around her before vanishing into thin air, because this was the last episode Samantha appeared in.  At least this way I can imagine her living her best gay life somewhere.

#beverly hills 90210 #samantha sanders #christine belford #steve sanders #ian ziering #queer #90s #1990s #bh 90210 #season 9

15 notes · View notes

okaybutlikeimagine · 4 years

Note

really weird hc but i think steve never cries, like it’s not that he doesn’t want to he just can’t??? he’s filled with emotions and he knows he technically should be crying but he just can’t. But billy on the other hand, if you asked him he’d deny it but he cries all. the. time. when he’s angry. when he’s sad. when he’s stressed. when he’s happy and laughing. he just can’t control it.

This is such an interesting headcanon and I DEFINITELY agree!!!! I think it makes perfect sense!!

Bc the way I think about it, Steve’s life has been a lot more performative than Billy’s has, if that makes any sense? Like, I think of Steve’s parents and I think of the kind of terrible people who had a kid just to 1. Pass down the name and 2. Say they have the “perfect family”. Like, they toted Steve out for parties just like Daisy does in Great Gatsby and then they’d hand him off to the sitter or the nanny or the maid or whatever. They didn’t actually want to raise a kid and understand that kid as a person, they wanted a trophy to say: “See this? This proves our relationship is strong and our marriage was worth it.”

And then, in the background, before Steve would be dragged off to whatever private function he was being forced and dressed to attend, his mom would grab him harshly and tightly around his little shoulders and kneel down to look him right in the eye and say: “You behave yourself, understand? There are going to be very important clients there and if you bother us while we’re working, you’re going to be grounded for a whole week. No, two. No toys, TV, nothing. You hear me?” And just imagine a little Steve, about age 5, blinking owlishly at his mom and nodding his head bc of course he can hear her, she’s right in his face, but the only thing he knows about “clients” is that they make his parents yell at each other and that they’re the reason his parents never read him bedtime stories or tuck him in at night

And I really don’t know a whole lot about like… the lives of the rich and famous, but I just can’t help but imagine Steve’s parents going to parties with the other “elite” in the area. And I use the term “elite” loosely bc i mean… let’s face it…. They still live in Hawkins. They’re definitely rich but it’s not like they’re rubbing elbows with high society over here. They’re the kind of rich, snobby, stuck up people who think they’re better than the people they share a community with. It’s the reason they’re not home very often: they hate being reminded about the fact that they haven’t moved out of Hawkins.

So they go to lots of rich, stuck up parties. And they hold Steve up like a trophy to their friends about how they have a kid already and “where’s yours, Patricia? Oh, don’t have one yet? Are things alright with you and Greg? Oh, just wondering, because if you don’t have a kid yet, well…. Maybe something’s wrong at home…”

and so Steve, with fresh threats swimming in his mind, stands there and smiles and takes all the cheek pinches and head pats even though he’s only a child and is about to fall asleep on his feet because they’ve been walking around meeting people for hours and the other kids won’t play with him because they think he’s “boring” or “stupid” or “poor” (which doesn’t make sense to him bc he’s the richest kid in his preschool as far as he’s aware. He figures the preschools must be different here.) so he puts on a mask even for the other kids. He pretends he doesn’t like playing in the mud or collecting bugs or making jokes about boogers. He puts aside acting like a kid to act like these kids just so he can play with them. Sometimes it works.

And so I think he learned not to cry at a very young age. Honestly, i dunno if you’ve heard about it, but I’m channeling The Who’s Tommy over here. Like, the whole “kid is threatened not to speak about this thing, that he didn’t see this thing, and that he didn’t hear this thing and thus goes deaf, blind, and mute”. And obviously a little less dramatic than that, but Steve’s always been told not to cry. When he would cry he’d get punished. It’s like a weird Pavlovian effect. Ever since he was a kid he was asked to put on a show for everyone, told not to pout or whine or cry, and now he just…. Can’t. He almost fears it. He hears his parents threats, even now at the age of 18, and smiles and laughs rather than cries. And sometimes he cries… that night that Nancy called him bullshit and told him she didn’t love him he went home and ripped a blanket she had (apparently lovelessly) gifted him and broke his lamp and accidentally sliced his foot on the glass of the lightbulb…. and cried and… and it felt like failure. It was only a couple of tears, hot and angry and rolling slowly down his face and he let his throat catch fire as he held everything else back. He was angry with himself at that point, more than anything. He looked himself in the mirror and heard his father’s words of “A Harrington never cries. Are you a true Harrington?” and sucked it all back in and did whatever he could to take his mind off of it, even though everything he did always ended with him fuming about the words over and over again and caused him to end up punching pillows and angrily drinking all the beer out of the fridge.

But Billy’s different.

Billy is a volcano. A volcano of every single emotion you can think of. He experiences them all violently and viciously and they take over his system until his body physically can’t hold back from crying. We SEE him cry multiple times in the show!!! And i like to think it’s bc rather than be toted around, he’s been locked in. where Steve’s parents drag Steve around to different social functions, Neil locks Billy up so he- and no one else -has to look at him. Steve is forced to be around others and put on a mask and Billy is forced to be alone, with just himself and his thoughts. He doesn’t need to mask himself when he’s alone.

And that’s not to say that Billy doesn’t also put on a show for others- because he most definitely does. I think a lot of what he does is performative bc he feels he needs to and his thought process for it lines up with Steve’s for himself: he’s just not good enough. He wasn’t good enough for his mom to stay, he wasn’t good enough for his dad to love in his mother’s absence, he wasn’t and isn’t good enough for anything. So he puts on a show of this big tough guy and he manipulates people and he calls it entertainment.

And this isn’t to say that he didn’t get yelled at for crying, either! Bc he definitely did. He’s gotten hit a few times for tears in his eyes but it was always followed with being locked in his room and being told that he was “embarrassing to watch”... and in the four walls of his room he cried more. Bc growing up, the one thing he found relief in was being sent to his room or even having his room in the first place: it gave him a space to be alone and let his emotions out. And he never tried to, his body always just did it for him. Bc crying is often a very visceral thing, and also a very natural and very human thing. It releases chemicals in your body to help soothe you and lord KNOWS Billy needs to soothe himself bc once his mom left, no one did it for him. His body realizes the emotions that aren’t being sorted and his mind knows when it’s safe (when he’s alone, when Neil’s turned and walking away, when no one can hear) and it cries. I just imagine Billy on constant vibrate, brimming with emotions and filled to the edge with too many things with everything with all of it and he just cries because there’s so few outlets for him. His body has grown accustomed to taking care of itself in that way. And so when he’s had too much (and the threshold on some days if very small), he rushes to his room and slams the door and as soon as it’s latched he’s near drowning in tears bc he needs release.

And let me tell you- it freaks the fuck out of Steve.

Because like you said, Steve just doesn’t cry. And the first time Billy and Steve have sex, Billy cries as he orgasms and Steve freaks. out. He thinks he did something wrong and he’s fretting over Billy and his heart is racing and he’s fighting with himself about if he should hold Billy’s face or step about 5 feet away from him because holy shit what happened??

And Billy feels like an idiot but there’s no stopping his body because he’s so overwhelmed by feeling so good and it’s been a long time coming for him and Steve and after all of that anger and animosity between each other, it was just too much and he cries. And he punches Steve while he’s crying, trying his best to growl but hiccuping around the words instead as he says: “Don’t look at me like that.”

“I’m so sorry Billy, holy shit! What do I do?!”

“Go get me a tissue, you dumbass!”

And he’s sniffling and blows his nose loud and Steve is in awe that Billy is still such a hardass even with tears running down his eyes.

And this happens a LOT. Every time Billy and Steve have sex, Billy tears up after he orgasms. It’s not always full on waterworks like the first time, but his eyes always water as he lays there with Steve, body lit up and hot like a fucking campfire, and he lays there and breathes and a tear rolls down his cheek and Steve has gotten so used to it that he leans over Billy and kisses the tear right at his cheekbone and whispers how beautiful he is. (and that usually makes Billy tear up even more, to which he shoves Steve with whatever strength he has left and tells him to shut his mouth)

The first time they tell each other “I love you” it’s the same thing. Billy whispers “I love you, too” and there go his tears. His chest heaves and he cries into Steve’s collarbone, gripping Steve’s shirt and Steve just kind of chuckles a bit and rubs Billy’s back and maybe cracks a joke about how he’s “such a sap” and Billy tilts his head so he can bite at Steve’s shoulder and make the boy yelp.

And the first time Billy catches Steve about to cry, he sees that the boy is about to run away. Bc he’s taken notice to the fact that Steve doesn’t cry and he hasn’t brought it up more than twice bc Steve is obviously anxious when he talks about it but Billy gets worried for him bc Steve always acts like he’s okay and Billy knows that’s not good. So when he catches Steve’s eyes watering and then Steve turning to lock himself away somewhere, he grabs the boy in the most forceful hug he can manage so that he can’t squirm away and hide himself and he says: “Don’t run away from me. Are you gonna cry?”

“Billy-”

“Then do it. You’re not a robot.”

“Billy stop I-”

“You’re human, you fucking dumbass.”

“Don’t call me-”

“It’s okay.”

And that makes Steve’s chest heave. He sucks so much air in he squeaks and his chest pushes against Billy’s own and Billy grabs tighter and nuzzles his head into Steve’s neck and whispers.

“You’re safe, Pretty Boy.”

And he stands there and he lets Steve cry. Lets himself be whatever physical and mental support Steve needs as he finally, finally let’s his body take over and just cries.

#ask #anonymous #billy hargrove #steve harrington #angst #hurt #comfort #harringrove #sorry this is a little off/weird #I'M feeling a little off/weird #i've been in a really bad headspace recently #but i really wanted to write something and i wrote this really quickly and.... yeah #♥#sorry this took a billion years to answer #i swear i'm gonna get to all my asks guys #eventually #there are a lot of things going on and they're giving me nervous breakdowns

158 notes · View notes

alarawriting · 4 years

Text

52 Project #27: The Pale Bro

Five friends drove up the mountain into the forest, where the vacation cabin waited for them. It was their senior year of college, so it wouldn’t be long before they’d be graduating and going their separate ways, and who knew when they’d all be able to hang out together again? So they’d decided that this year, instead of going on spring break someplace where there were a ton of other people, they’d spend break together in a cabin in the woods, because there was no possible way that that could go wrong.

They were just five totally ordinary college guys. Steve, a white dude with brown hair who loved video games and playing guitar; Trevor, a black dude with short hair who was on track to graduate magna cum laude and had already been accepted at a top medical school; Harrison, an outgoing, short, red-haired white dude who played soccer, but not, like, at career athlete level or anything; Evan, an Asian dude who kept his hair in a long ponytail, and whose family owned the cabin, who was planning on taking a year off after graduation to backpack around Asia and had sold it to his parents as an exploration of his heritage; and the Pale Bro, a twelve-foot tall dude with paper-white skin whose fingernails were like long razor blades and who was completely covered with eyes and mouths, wearing a Hawaiian shirt, cut-off shorts that would have been nearly pants on any other guy, and a pair of Vans on his feet. Just five ordinary young fellows, like anyone you might know.

Steve was driving the minivan, kinda wishing it was his dad’s SUV because of the effort of getting a minivan up the slope, but his dad’s SUV was in a different state and besides, it wouldn’t have had room for the Pale Bro. The minivan was the kind where you could put down the back row of seats to expand the cargo capacity, and the Pale Bro had laid out a thick sleeping-bag style blanket on top of their suitcases and was laying on them now, curled sideways because there was no dimension where he could stretch out in the van. Must be rough for him, Steve imagined, always having to bend down or curl up to fit into buildings and vehicles with his bros. He never complained about it, though. He was a great friend.

“How much farther is this place?” Harrison asked. “I gotta piss like you wouldn’t believe.”

“I’ve been unfortunately next to you at the urinals,” Trevor said. “I’d believe it.”

Steve checked the GPS. “Shit. The GPS has just decided to get the vapors because it’s up too high. It’s telling me I’m literally in the middle of nowhere. Like, look at this.” He showed the screen to Evan. “We’re in the middle of nowhere. It isn’t even drawing the road.”

“Don’t worry about it, I can guide you in from here,” Evan said. “Just stay on the road another 20 minutes or so.”

With a voice that rumbled like the sound of tectonic plates grinding together and the hiss of static from the birth of the universe behind it, the Pale Bro conveyed that there had better be some fucking food at the cabin, because he was starving.

“You and me both, buddy,” Trevor said.

“We all just got Burger King like, two hours ago,” Steve complained.

“Yeah, well, me and Pale are tall dudes. We need more food than you.” Trevor smirked.

“There should be food, I had a grocery delivery scheduled for earlier today and one of my parents’ employees was supposed to swing by the place, pick it up and put it in the fridge.”

“There’s a fridge at this cabin?” Harrison asked.

Evan looked at him. “Yeah, dumbass, you think I’d have suggested coming here if there was no fridge? There’s running water, too. It even gets hot if you run it long enough.”

“Well, excuse me for not being so rich I can afford to go to a cabin in the woods, ever, before now.”

“What else has it got?” Trevor asked.

“Well, there’s three bedrooms, one of which has a king-sized bed and the other two have bunk beds. I figure, Pale Bro gets the big bed and we break up into two’s and do the roommate thing. There’s a sofa bed too, in case someone really can’t stand having a roommate. We don’t have a washer or dryer, but if you only brought one pair of underpants and it’s getting really rank, we’ve got detergent and a clothesline so you can wash them in the sink. There’s a dishwasher.”

“I would have put in a washer and dryer before I put in a dishwasher, personally,” Steve said.

“Yeah, well, my mom had a different opinion. Anyway, it’s camping in the woods. It’s not supposed to be just like if we were at home.”

“I call top bunk!” Harrison said.

“There’s two top bunks. Both rooms have bunk beds.”

The Pale Bro expressed in a voice like a Gregorian chant of nightmares that he wanted to know if there was a bathroom in the master bedroom, because that shit would be sweet.

“Naah, man, sorry,” Evan said. “But there is one of those really deep claw-foot bathtubs that you like.”

Like the rumbling of an oncoming avalanche, the Pale Bro opined that that was excellent.

***

“I don’t believe this shit.”

They had just disembarked, the Pale Bro in the rear bringing his own suitcase and the beer cooler, which was the size of a mini-fridge, and everyone else dragging their suitcases in… except for Evan, who had gone directly to the kitchen without bringing in his own stuff yet. He came stomping out. “Joe never showed up, the bastard! I’m totally having my dad fire his ass.”

“What do you mean?” Steve asked.

“I mean that food order never showed up. So we have canned food, and boxed food, but we don’t have anything perishable. No bread, no lunchmeat, no eggs, no bacon, no orange juice, none of that shit.” He sighed. “I’m gonna have to drive down into town myself to get food, and we just got here.”

“Hey, man, I can still drive the car,” Steve said. “You just need to tell me where to go.”

“Steve, you’ve been driving for 6 hours, you’re probably wiped. I can drive,” Trevor said. “It’s the least I could do with Evan buying our food.”

“Yeah, but you bought the beer, man,” Evan said. “So maybe Harrison needs to drive.”

“Uh, hey, before anyone drives anywhere, maybe you should call and find out if your parents even know where that Joe guy who never showed up is, and if he’s all right?” Harrison called from outside.

“Why?”

“Just… everyone come take a look at this!”

Everyone went outside and congregated around Harrison’s find, which was a roughly humanoid, but clawed, tread that was at least three times the size of a normal footprint. Experimentally the Pale Bro put his own massive foot into the tread. Harrison whistled. The footprint was about 25% bigger than the Pale Bro’s.

“Dude. What is that? Is that a bear?” Harrison asked.

Trevor shook his head. “Those are sneaker treads, Har. Bears don’t wear sneakers.”

In a voice that was the perfect auditory personification of the Zalgo font, the Pale Bro suggested that it looked like one of his cousins was back on its bullshit again.

“Goddamn,” Evan said. “That’s a big fellow.”

“I think maybe if we go into town we should all go,” Steve said.

“We’ve just been driving all this time, though,” Evan said. “I wanted to relax, crack a cold one, put on some MP3s. We don’t get Internet worth shit out here but I’ve got a huge music library on the stereo’s hard drive.”

The Pale Bro opined that before anyone drove anywhere, maybe he had better find his cousin and make it clear that if his cousin touched any of his friends he would shove its head so far up its ass it would be blinking shit out of its 27 eyes for a month.

“That… sounds reasonable,” Trevor said. “Since we don’t know what happened to Joe. We can hunker down here and wait for you to get back.”

“I’m pretty sure I got instant just add water pancake mix,” Evan said. “And my mom stocked this place with crappy dehydrated chicken pieces like the kind doomsday preppers buy. I could make a shitty chicken soup, we’ve got bouillon and noodles. Oh, and there’s a few cans of chili. Canned stuff is shit but I could maybe perk it up with some spices, some extra beans… put some rice in the cooker, I bet my mom left rice here, she buys like 100 pound bags of rice.”

Like the sound of Jupiter hovering in orbit above, rotating ponderously, the Pale Bro agreed that some canned chili with extra spices sounded pretty good considering how fucking hungry he was, and as soon as he found his asshole cousin he’d be back to eat with the rest of his bros. He also reminded them to save him some beer.

“Dude!” Steve laughed. “We’ve got three keggers’ worth in that cooler! There will be plenty of beer for you.”

Evan called his parents as the Pale Bro left the house, and reported back, somewhat gray-faced. “They said Joe never called in to say he got to the house. He reported picking up the groceries, he was headed up here, and then nada.”

“Oh, well, then, you work on the chili,” Trevor said, “and me and the rest of the guys are gonna lock up all the windows and doors and put someone on watch for when the Pale Bro gets back. You don’t have any guns up here, by any chance, do you?”

“Nope, my parents aren’t really hunters,” Evan said.

“Well, I’ve seen your kitchen at home, I know what kind of equipment your mom likes to stock. We’ll have plenty of sharp knives, I’m betting.”

“Yeah.”

And so as Evan attempted to turn six cans of canned chili into something his bros would find edible, and the Pale Bro stalked through the forest on the mountaintop looking for his asshole cousin, the other three made sure everything was locked up, that the car keys were secure, and that there were wicked cooking knives within easy reach, but not line of sight from the outside, of every door. Just like ordinary bros do, every day.

***

The Pale Bro stalked through the woods. Now, you’d think that being twelve feet tall and having a foot easily the size of a car tire’s diameter would make it hard to walk through a thickly wooded forest with plenty of underbrush, but the Bro’s long, skinny arms and legs could easily step over bushes and shrubs, and could pivot in directions that didn’t seem to quite exist within three-dimensional space. So he had very little difficulty making his way through the dense forest.

In the beginning, he was tracking the large treads that may or may not have been left by his asshole cousin, but the trail disappeared as it crossed a small creek. In a tone that sounded like the anthropomorphic personification of the trumpets of Jericho, the Pale Bro groaned, recognizing that he’d lost the trail and would have to search for it.

And so he went up the creek, and down the creek, and out from the creek, and up the trees around the creek, looking for any sign of his cousin… until he heard, in the distance, human voices.

Human female voices.

He stumbled through the woods, suddenly much clumsier than he’d been, following the sound of girls, until he half-fell out of the treeline and ended up in a clearing around another cabin, like Evan’s but bigger. The sounds were coming from around the corner of the cabin. The Pale Bro slid forward, long long legs making long long strides through the yard around the cabin, until a hot tub with a wooden deck came into view. The hot tub was on, and populated by five smokin’ hot girls.

There was a fair-skinned blonde girl, in a skimpy blue bikini that showed off all her curves, whose wavy hair floated angel-like around her head, improbably given that she was in a hot tub. There was a short, delicate black girl with hair in very wet braids and a soft, beautiful face, wearing a candy pink bikini. There was an Indian girl with long hair and an athletic build, with a red bindi mark on her forehead and a pale turquoise one-piece bathing suit with a little skirt, sitting on the deck and kicking her feet slowly in the water. A red-haired white girl with tan Mediterranean skin, tight curls, and a bright white bikini that stood out against her tan, had turned away from the tub and was looking directly at the Pale Bro, a slight smile on her face. The fifth girl was green and scaly, with webbed hands and golden eyes with nictating membranes; she didn’t have hair, but she had betta-like, beautifully colored fins on her head that looked hair-like.

All of them were absolutely gorgeous.

The blonde girl shrieked and ducked into the tub; the black girl bounced and climbed out of the tub, a big grin on her face. “Hi there, stranger!” she yelled from the rail around the deck. “Why don’t you come over and have a beer with us?”

The Pale Bro admitted in a tone like the creaking of an ancient rusted machine at the base of an abandoned windmill that that sounded awesome.

The green girl rolled her eyes. The Indian girl gave the black girl a questioning look. “Are you sure, Kayla?”

“Come on, Nandi,” the red-haired girl said. “I think he’s cute.”

The blonde girl came back up. “Are you inviting him over?” she asked, sounding horrified. “What if he’s a psycho killer?”

“Oh, right,” the green girl said. “He’s pale and tall and has eyes all over his body so he must be a psycho killer. Racist much?”

“No! He’s just a strange dude, that’s all! You have to watch out for strange dudes!”

The Pale Bro explained in the voice of a broken subwoofer booming at outdoor concert sound levels underwater that he didn’t really want to scare any of the girls and he’d go if they didn’t want him here.

The green girl leaned her elbows on the edge of the hot tub. “Forget Ashlee, she’s just paranoid.”

“You didn’t want him coming over either, Y’lehna,” Nandi said quietly.

“I just knew that if Kayla invited him over, we’re gonna lose Rhiannon for the rest of the night,” Y’lehna muttered.

The red-haired girl, presumably Rhiannon, was smiling broadly at the Pale Bro now. “Hey there,” she said. “We’ve got hard cider and hard lemonade, Bud, Corona and a couple of local microbrews. What’s your pleasure?”

In a voice that was actually surprisingly normal-sounding for once, the Pale Bro said he’d have whatever Rhiannon was having, which turned out to be hard cider.

He clambered up onto the hot tub deck, pulled off his sneakers, and soaked his feet in the hot tub, which barely came up to his knees.

“So what are you doing around here? You don’t live near here, do you?” Kayla asked.

And so the Pale Bro explained that he and his bros had decided to spend their last spring break of college together, in a cabin in the woods, because once graduation came they might never see each other again, and certainly even if they made excuses to get together on occasion, they’d see each other a lot less.

“That’s so sweet!” Kayla said.

“We’re juniors,” Rhiannon said. “Except Ashlee, she’s a sophomore, and Y’lehna’s technically a senior but she’s planning on doing a fifth year. But we decided to hang out here because Ashlee’s parents just put in a hot tub.”

“Hot tub!” Kayla sang out, and slid back into the tub. She was maybe just a little bit drunk.

As it turned out, they all went to the same university, and Y’lehna and the Pale Bro chatted for a bit about sports. “I tried out for the swim team,” Y’lehna said, “but when they found out I had gills, they disqualified me because apparently part of the point of the sport is that you are only allowed to breathe gaseous oxygen?”

The Pale Bro commiserated, as he hadn’t even tried trying out for the basketball team like he had once dreamed of, realizing that they would never allow someone who was taller than the hoop to play.

***

“I don’t know, though,” Ashlee, who had warmed up to the Pale Bro once another hard lemonade was in her hand, said. She was lying in a deck chair rather than in the tub. “Normally I love this place, and the tub’s great, but something just feels really creepy today.”

“You’ve been on edge since we got here,” Nandi – whose full name turned out to be Nandini, but she insisted that the Pale Bro should use her nickname – agreed.

The Pale Bro was thus reminded that his bros were expecting him to track down what might be a killer who may or may not have murdered Joe, the guy who was supposed to bring in the groceries, and also that he was very hungry and the hard cider wasn’t doing him any favors on an empty stomach. He pulled his feet out of the tub and confessed, in a voice like the grinding of the gears of the machinery that runs the universe, that his bros had sent him out to find a monster – he didn’t mention that the monster was probably his cousin – who might have killed someone, and also that dinner was waiting for him back at the cabin.

“Oh, you should bring them over!” Kayla said cheerfully.

“Are they all like you?” Rhiannon asked in a tone that might be considered “sultry” by anyone not as oblivious as the Pale Bro.

The Pale Bro shook his head and admitted that his bros were all much shorter than he was.

Rhiannon put a hand on his arm. “Well, that’s too bad, but I guess one handsome, tall fellow in a group is all I can expect, right?”

The Pale Bro looked at Rhiannon’s hand like it was an inexplicable glob that might be ice cream and possibly should be washed off, but equally possibly should be licked up.

Y’lehna said, “Why don’t you bring them over? They might be cute.”

“Yeah,” Nandi said, “we can’t all fit in the hot tub at once, but didn’t you say you had four friends back at your cabin?”

“That makes five,” Ashlee said, “and there’s five of us!”

“Also,” Nandi said, “we’ve still got, like, five pizzas in the house.”

This made the decision for the Pale Bro. He took the girls up on their offer of a couple of slices of pizza – they were cold, but he didn’t mind – and then headed back to the cabin to let his bros know about the girls’ offer.

***

The Pale Bro knocked on the window of the cabin, which apparently gave everyone inside heart attacks, even though he’d just meant to warn them to open the door for him. “Jesus, Pale,” Evan complained. “There’s a door.”

Within a few minutes – and after dropping his hard cider bottle in the recycling bin, because Evan’s family were big on recycling and the Pale Bro wanted to be polite – he had explained the situation to his bros.

“Let me get this straight,” Evan said. “You didn’t find any sign of Joe, you didn’t find your cousin or any other kind of monster or killer, and you want us to leave and go hiking through the woods to go hang out at a cabin full of strangers?”

When Evan phrased it that way, the Pale Bro admitted that it didn’t sound like a great idea, but on the other hand, there were five incredibly hot girls, plus a hot tub, plus pizza.

“Now let’s talk about this,” Trevor said. “Has anyone considered that if there’s really a psycho killer or a monster loose in the woods, those five girls might be in a lot more danger than we are? Maybe we should go over there to help protect them.”

“Yeah! And we could bring some of our beers, and Evan’s chili and rice—” Harrison suggested.

“Fuck no, I’m not making anybody else have to eat this chili,” Evan said. “It’s shit. It’s just the best I could do with the supplies I’ve got.” He sighed. “Too bad I can’t bring my tunes.”

“We need to be careful about locking everything up,” Steve said. “We really don’t want to come home tomorrow morning and find the psycho killer waiting for us here.”

“Or a gaggle of rabid raccoons,” Evan said. “That’s a thing around here.”

“Did any of you guys bring condoms?” Harrison asked. “Because I didn’t think we’d be seeing any action this weekend, so I didn’t bring any…”

Trevor chuckled. “We haven’t even met these girls, Har. Aren’t you jumping the gun a little?”

“Hey, I like to be prepared.”

“I’ve got a handful in my wallet, but I don’t think I’ve got five of them,” Steve said.

The Pale Bro pointed out with laughter like the rolling of thunder in a distant cavern that probably none of Steve’s condoms would fit him anyhow, so it would be fine.

“You don’t have to eat that chili, man,” Evan said, observing that the Pale Bro had dumped half a rice cooker’s worth of rice onto a plate and then all the rest of the chili that the other bros hadn’t eaten on top of that, and was currently chowing down. “It’s shit. I admit it. And you said you had some pizza.”

The Pale Bro declared that he was too hungry to care what it tasted like, that two slices of pizza weren’t nearly enough, and besides, it tasted fine to him.

So the five bros armed themselves with the sharp knives from Evan’s mom’s kitchen just in case they ran into a psycho killer along the way, locked all the doors and windows to the cabin and the doors to the car, and the Pale Bro carried the beer cooler as he led the way back to the house with the five hot girls.

***

It wasn’t particularly easy for the Pale Bro to retrace his steps through the woods; it’d been just short of sunset when he’d found the girls, and now it was full dark. His myriad eyes could see well in the dark, of course, but his bros couldn’t, so he had to watch out for them, and they were also a lot less flexible, and tall, than he was. Also, he hadn’t been toting a beer cooler the last time he came through here.

It didn’t help that his bros were very jumpy, freaking every time a night bird called or a twig broke loudly. The Pale Bro got it, he did – there might be a psycho killer in the woods, or a monster, or his cousin who was also a monster, and they couldn’t see as well as he could, or defend themselves. But this was just ridiculous. In a voice that was an auditory personification of the concept of dread, he suggested that they stop being such big pussies and concentrate on not tripping before they accidentally stabbed each other trying to brandish knives at random bushes.

“Yo, man, we can’t all be twelve feet tall,” Harrison said, sounding pissed but also still really anxious.

In a voice that was best described by some kind of metaphor implying a deep and scary sound that hopefully hasn’t been used already in this story, the Pale Bro offered to give Harrison a piggyback ride.

Trevor said, “Not in the middle of trees, man, you’d brain him. Walk right into a tree branch and knock him off.”

“Yeah, I gotta turn that down,” Harrison said.

“You smell that?” Steve said. “Smells like someone’s firing up a grill somewhere. I can smell the charcoal.”

“Did the girls have a grill?” Trevor asked.

The Pale Bro admitted that to the best of his knowledge, they did not, but on the other hand they had Hawaiian pizza. This, of course, triggered the old argument, where Steve and Harrison insisted that pineapple did not belong on pizza, and Evan and the Pale Bro insisted that pineapple on pizza was quite valid. The argument continued, with Trevor’s exhortations to show some common sense and save the argument until they were not walking through a dark forest that might contain a psycho killer going unheeded, until Steve accidentally fell in the creek because he couldn’t see it, and in the process lost one of Evan’s mom’s good cooking knives.

However, the Pale Bro mused, this was a potentially good sign because he’d found the girls while walking alongside the creek. So the bros walked alongside the creek, Steve muttering that these girls had better be hot after all this, until they heard the sound of female human voices, exactly like the Pale Bro had had before.

They entered the clearing, observed the very large cabin, Evan making comments like “I bet it’s a bitch to keep clean, ten to one that thing’s not sanitary” because he was jealous that the cabin was bigger than his family’s, and then around the corner to observe the very hot girls, who were all still very hot even though some of them had pizza sauce smeared around their lips.

“Well, hell-o, ladies!” Harrison said, trying to be suave and cool, and failing miserably.

The Pale Bro wondered, in the voice like the echoes of a rockslide in a canyon, if there was any of the pineapple pizza left, because unfortunately he was still hungry. He gestured at his very large body somewhat self-deprecatingly.

“Hi, guys!” Kayla, who was obviously the group’s ambassador to guests, said, with possibly more bubbliness in her voice than was currently in the hot tub. “I’m Kayla, and this is Nandini, and over there in the blue bikini is Ashlee, whose cabin this is – I mean, really it’s her family’s cabin—”

“I get it,” Evan said. “My family’s got a cabin too, that’s where we’ve been hanging. We just got in today. My name’s Evan.”

“Cool!” Kayla said. “That’s Y’lehna in the lawn chair with the wine cooler, and Rhiannon went to the bathroom but I’m sure—”

“I’m back!” Rhiannon announced. Trevor’s eyes widened and then turned heart-shaped. Metaphorically.

“And I’m Trevor. Hello, ladies,” he said, sounding much cooler when he said it than Harrison had.

“I’m Harrison, and this is Steve, and he’s kinda shy!” Harrison punctuated this by shoving his kinda shy friend forward.

“Uh, hi,” Steve said. “I kind of fell in the creek on my way here?”

Kayla’s eyes went wide. “Oh, wow! Hey, Ashlee, do you mind if I bring him inside and show him the shower?”

“Long as he takes his shoes off,” Ashlee said, coming to the deck railing. Steve saw her angelic hair, beautiful skin, and ample charms shown off by the rather small bikini, and fell in love.

“Oh, definitely. I’ll definitely do that. I – yeah. Thanks a lot for letting me use the shower, I’m all covered in mud. Which you can see. Because you’re standing there, looking at me covered in mud.”

Kayla laughed. “Oh, yeah, let’s get you cleaned up!” She took Steve’s hand with surprising alacrity and lack of reluctance, given that he was covered in mud.

Evan said, “The guy who was supposed to bring over the groceries never showed, and I made some chili and rice out of canned stuff for my friends, but it was kinda shitty. Pale asked if there was any more of the pineapple pizza? I could definitely go for a slice if you’re offering.”

Ashlee lit up. “Oh! Sure! I can take you in to get some pizza!”

Rhiannon had by then walked over to the Pale Bro, and put her hand on his arm again. “You know, I could definitely go for some more pizza myself,” she purred.

Meanwhile, Harrison was trying to chat up Y’lehna, and also strip to his boxers so he could get in the hot tub, without looking like he was doing it in a creepy way. “So, where’re you from?”

“Massachusetts,” Y’lehna said, lying back in the lawn chair and wistfully gazing at Trevor, who had followed Rhiannon, the Pale Bro, and Ashlee in for pizza. “A little town called Innsmouth, on the coast. Little more than half an hour north of Boston.” Y’lehna had legs, but they were covered with scales and her feet were large and webbed.

“Cool. I’m from New Jersey, but, you know, like the south end. Not the part that’s all gritty like Newark and Jersey City.” Harrison slid into the hot tub. “Oh, man, this is nice. You wanna get back in?”

“After I finish my wine cooler, maybe. Ashlee doesn’t like it when we eat or drink in the tub.”

Evan was the first to come back from the pizza hunt, carrying a beer and two slices and had actually had swimming trunks at the cabin – they hadn’t planned on going swimming on this trip, but Evan kept some clothes here all the time, and he’d already changed into them and then put his clothes on over. He stripped to his bathing suit and then went and got into the hot tub near Nandini. “Hey.”

Nandini barely noticed; she was too busy looking at Harrison. Evan had to say it again to get her attention. She turned and looked at him. “Oh, you can’t eat those in the tub. Or drink the beer.”

“What if I sit back from the tub and just soak my feet, until I’m done with the food?”

Nandini shrugged. “I guess that’d be okay, but you’d have to ask Ashlee. Can I ask you something?”

Evan beamed. “Sure! Whatever you want!”

She nodded her head toward Harrison. “Does your friend have a girlfriend?”

Evan’s first reaction was dismay – Nandini seemed to not even notice him as a man, and was just making eyes at Harrison, who was obviously captivated by Y’lehna. Then he narrowed his eyes and decided to make problems on purpose. “Oh, sorry, Harrison is gay.” Actually, Steve was bi and the rest of them were straight – Evan thought, anyway, unsure about the Pale Bro and if he even had a sexuality, but he did seem to like to look at girls.

Nandini sighed. “Aren’t they always.”

Ashlee was the next to come back. She sat next to Evan. “You know, if you want to get into the hot tub and still eat your food, I normally have a rule about that but I could let it go this time. Just as long as you keep the actual food and drink out of the hot tub so it doesn’t make everything gross.” She smiled at Evan.

Evan smiled at her, because it was always good to smile at your host, and it was also always good to smile at a pretty girl, and Ashlee was both. “Thanks,” he said, not planning to take her up on it because what if he dropped the pizza?, and then turned back to Nandini. “What’re you majoring in?”

“Ugh, I hate having to explain it to people,” Nandini said. “It’s… complicated. It’s a discipline that’s part economic theory, part psychology, part sociology and part anthropology. Basically, I’m majoring in the question of why do people do dumb things when they’d be better off doing smart ones, and how that impacts our understanding of economics.”

“That sounds really interesting,” said Evan, who had quit his business major because he was bored out of his mind by economics. “I’m doing Asia studies. Yeah, it’s a cliché.” He’d gone into Asia studies after he quit his business major because it was the only thing he thought his parents would let him get by with if he refused to study business. Some kind of “Mom, Dad, I really want to get in touch with our heritage and understand the culture of my grandparents” bullshit. Also, statistically you were more likely to find a girl who considers Asian guys hot in Asia studies than any other major, he suspected.

“That’s pretty cool!” Ashlee said. “Which part of Asia is your family from? China, Korea…?”

“China, originally,” Evan, whose real name was Haoran, but who’d been going by Evan since second grade, said. His pizza finished, he slid down into the tub and turned back to Nandini. “So, we came over here to warn you – and maybe help you fight if it comes to it – but we’re worried there might be a killer or something in the woods?”

“Omigod, really?” Ashlee asked, eyes wide with terror.

“Why do you think that?” Nandini asked, seeming completely calm.

“Well, my parents had an employee, Joe, buy food for my cabin. He was supposed to drop it off… but he never showed up, and he never called my parents, and he’s not answering his cell. Meanwhile, we saw this absolutely huge tread in the dirt, and the Pale Bro thinks it might be his cousin.”

“Yeah, he told us all that,” Nandini said. “Except for the part about it maybe being his cousin.”

“So, a monster?” Y’lehna asks. “Because there’s a difference between a psycho killer, who’s human, and a monster, who isn’t. You don’t know what the monster’s capable of, but when you see them, you know they’re a monster.”

“Yeah, but just because they look like a monster doesn’t mean anything about what they’re like!” Harrison said. “The Pale Bro looks like a monster, but he’s a really great guy!”

“I’m guessing his cousin sucks, though,” Y’lehna said.

“Well, we don’t know his cousin,” Harrison said, somewhat diplomatically.

“Do you really think there’s a killer?” Ashlee asked, getting into the hot tub right next to Evan – and inconveniently, between him and Nandini. “But you’ll protect us, right?”

“Uh, some of us can protect ourselves…” Nandini said.

Evan got back out of the tub so he could see Nandini more clearly without Ashlee in the way. “Absolutely. I’m not trying to say that we’re offering our protection because, you know, we’re guys and you’re girls and we think we’re tougher than you. That’s not it at all; I bet most of you could kick my ass.” He did not actually think this; Evan was in pretty good shape, since he was preparing to backpack all over Asia next year if he got the chance, and also, he bicycled a lot. It was pretty clear to him, though, that Nandini was invested in thinking of herself as someone who could protect herself, and who knew? Maybe she was a martial arts master or a crack shot. “But we figure, there’s safety in numbers. Plus, if it is the Pale Bro’s cousin, he can get it to back the hell off.”

“Good point,” Nandini said.

At this point there was a glass-shattering, horrible screech, and then something, some unknown creature moving so fast it was a blur, leapt out of the hot tub and charged directly at Evan, Nandini and Ashlee. All three of them screamed, as it slashed bright pain across Evan’s legs, right above his knees.

And then Ashlee started cracking up, as the horrible assailant stopped at the edge of the deck and began washing itself vigorously. “Phenyl, you dumbass. I know you like to sleep on the tub when we have it covered, but couldn’t you see we have it open and it’s full of water?”

Evan’s heart was still pounding, but now that he could see the creature that had slashed gashes into his thighs, he took deep breaths to calm himself down. “That’s your cat?”

“Yeah, her name is Phenylephrine and she’s a dumbass. She catches rats, though. One time she chased off a raccoon who’d gotten into the trash.” Ashlee attempted to pick her cat up, but the almost-entirely-black-except-for-white-bib cat jumped down off the deck, apparently not sufficiently recovered from her ordeal to tolerate interacting with humans. Evan decided not to ask why the cat was named after a decongestant.

“So what are you majoring in?” Harrison asked Y’lehna, trying to come across as casual. “I’m doing liberal arts, you know? Just a little of everything.”

“Shakespearean literature,” Y’lehna said.

“Oh, wow! You know about the theory that he didn’t write his own plays, right?”

Y’lehna rolled her eyes. “Of course I do. It’s bullshit.”

And as she explained all the reasons why she thought the theory was bullshit, Harrison listened to her raptly with imaginary hearts in his eyes.

***

Steve was deeply grateful to Kayla for taking him in to find Ashlee’s shower. The cabin had wooden floors, thankfully, so the gunk still dripping off his body could be easily cleaned. It made sense – it was a cabin in the woods, after all – but Steve had some vague idea of what rich people houses were like from visiting Evan, and carpet played a big role in his mental image of a rich person abode.

He was less impressed with the towel Kayla found him, after he came out of the shower. It was very… brief. Bigger than a hand towel, but not by much, it covered the territory it was required to cover and not very much else.

“I hate to ask, but does Ashlee have any brothers or other family members who might be around my size? This towel is kinda…”

Kayla laughed. “I think you look cute in it, but yeah, I can see why you’d want something bigger!” She stuck her head in the kitchen, where Ashlee was serving pizza to Evan, Rhiannon, Trevor, and the Pale Bro. “Hey, Ashlee! Does Hunter have any swimming trunks or t-shirts here?”

“You can check. He usually uses the middle bedroom.”

Steve called out, “I can have them cleaned and returned tomorrow, I just… my clothes are all muddy… I don’t want to impose, but this towel’s kind of tiny…”

“No problem, I don’t even care if you keep Hunter’s stuff. It would serve him right for being a douche,” Ashlee said.

Kayla checked, and came back with a NASCAR t-shirt and a pair of swimming trunks with grotesquely grinning emojis all over it. “Sorry, I hope it fits! It’s all he had!”

“No problem, NASCAR’s cool,” Steve said. The sum total of his knowledge about NASCAR was that it had something to do with cars, probably, and that guys who drank warm crappy beer and drove pickup trucks liked it, and that was all. But if Ashlee’s family was into it, maybe it was worth checking out.

He and Kayla walked into the kitchen, now that he was vaguely decent. “OMG I am so sorry,” Ashlee said. “That shirt is awful. Is that really the only one Hunter had?”

Steve shrugged, understanding more about Ashlee’s relationship to her brother’s interests. “It’s not like I’m into NASCAR or anything, but beggars can’t be choosers, right?”

The Pale Bro chose this moment to inform everyone in a voice that echoed like a portent of doom that there was no more beer in Ashlee’s fridge, and this was a problem, because he and his bros had brought beer for 5 people for three days, but now they had ten people, so what if they ran out?

Steve privately thought it was good that the Pale Bro wasn’t majoring in anything that needed math. Ten people would burn through the beer for five people at twice the rate, but twice the rate of three days would be a day and a half, more than enough time to go get more beer, unless the psycho killer or monster slashed their tires or something.

Kayla spoke up. “I’ve got more in the trunk of my car, but I parked kind of crappy.”

“Well, no matter how crappy the parking job was, more beer’s always a good thing,” Trevor said.

The Pale Bro expressed in a voice that was like the crackling of atoms fusing together in the unfathomable heat of the sun that he’d be happy to go get them out of Kayla’s car.

“Uh… no, I think Steve should do it,” Kayla said. “Because he’s shorter, and it’s a really crappy parking job. Trust me, you will bonk your head on trees about six times just trying to reach my car.”

“Did you park it in the woods?” Trevor asked.

“Um, sorta… I was kinda excited about getting here and waving to my friends and I accidentally hit the gas instead of the brake and I ended up in the woods… yeah.” She looked up at Steve forlornly. “I’m such an idiot.”

“You’re not an idiot,” Steve said, because it was always a good idea to tell a pretty girl who said she was an idiot that in fact she was not.

In a voice like the echoes of a NASCAR race going on over one’s head because one was in a sewer system under the track, the Pale Bro offered to help Kayla get her car out of the woods, if it was stuck there.

“That’s really sweet of you,” Rhiannon purred. “Probably better to do it in daylight, though. There’s a cliff drop near there, and you don’t want to accidentally slip over the edge.”

“Or worse, drop the car,” Steve said, and laughed. Kayla laughed with him.

The Pale Bro expressed to Kayla that if there was a cliff face near there, then he was very glad that she hadn’t accidentally driven off the edge, because that would have been bad.

“Yeah,” Kayla said, “but it all worked out so no harm done, right? Unless, like, I punctured the gas tank with a tree branch or something. That would definitely be bad.”

Steve, Trevor, Rhiannon and the Pale Bro all agreed that that would definitely be the case.

***

After Steve and Kayla had left to go to Kayla’s car to get more beer, Rhiannon asked the Pale Bro what his major was.

“I’m pre-med,” Trevor inserted, not actually having been asked.

“Mm, nice. I’m trying to become a physicist, myself. What about you?” She repeated the question in the Pale Bro’s direction.

In a voice that was muffled and full of pizza, the Pale Bro conveyed that he hadn’t heard the question, sorry.

“I just wanted to know what your major was,” she said.

The Pale Bro confessed that he was majoring in gender studies, having decided that hotel management was not really a good career path for him.

“Oh, really!” Rhiannon brightened. “You don’t see a lot of guys majoring in gender studies! You must be very secure in your masculinity.” She said this as someone who seemed very secure in the Pale Bro’s masculinity, herself, as she pressed against him.

The Pale Bro mumbled in a voice that really didn’t sound all that different from anyone else’s mumbling that he just didn’t like how society treated women, and added that his mother raised him to respect and look up to women. He confided that she had torn apart giant megafauna with her bare claws and fed them to her brood of spawn while insisting on table manners, and that he couldn’t imagine any job more difficult than being the primary caretaker of children. Children, he admitted, scared him.

“Oh, yes, the little rugrats can totally bring the chaos,” Rhiannon laughed.

The Pale Bro clarified that actually chaos was perfectly fine by him and the natural state of all things that the universe must someday return to; it was their high-pitched screechy voices that really bothered him.

“I never knew that,” Trevor said. “Weird, what you learn about people. Rhiannon,which kind of physics are you concentrating on? Like, space, or quantum, or what?”

“Haven’t really narrowed it down like that, it’s going to depend on what grad school accepts me and which programs I can get into,” Rhiannon said. To the Pale Bro she said, “Hey, do you want to go for a walk? It’s really nice out.”

“It is, but there might be some kind of killer or monster in the woods,” Trevor reminded her. “Do you really think it’s a good idea to go wandering off by yourself?”

She rolled her eyes and gestured at the Pale Bro. “I’m pretty sure that Pale here would be able to protect me if anything came up,” she said.

The Pale Bro confessed in a voice that echoed like the infrasound rumble of the collapse of a concrete building, but an embarrassed and regretful tone, that actually he wanted to wait right here, because he wanted more beer and also his feet hurt.

“Well, why don’t we go back to the hot tub and let you soak your feet for a bit?” Rhiannon asked.

“That sounds like a great idea,” Trevor said. “We’ve got our own beer cooler out there, remember? You brought it over.”

This was true, the Pale Bro admitted, but he couldn’t eat or drink in the hot tub, and he wanted another slice of Hawaiian pizza if there was any.

“Oh, but you’re a big fellow,” Rhiannon said. “You could totally sit back from the hot tub and dangle your feet in it while you’re eating, and you wouldn’t be close enough to the tub to bother Ashlee.”

In that case, the Pale Bro conveyed in a voice like the rumbling of a train full of dead bodies, he was all for the hot tub, because that shit sounded great.

***

The group joined back up around the hot tub, all except for Kayla and Steve, who were still in the woods, ostensibly getting beer out of Kayla’s car. Ashlee had brought out chips and pretzels, which, she said, were not to be eaten within five feet of the hot tub. This meant that the Pale Bro could soak his feet while he snacked, as promised, but no one else could actually eat near the tub.

“Come on, that’s not fair,” Y’lehna, who was considerably more drunk than she had been earlier in the evening and probably really needed to fill her stomach with chips and pretzels, complained. “I’ve been good all night but now I’m starving, and you know my skin needs to be moisturized.”

“I keep offering to let you try some of my Oil of Olay,” Ashlee mumbled.

“If I wanted to cover myself in something oily, I’d use fish oil, it’s traditional around my hometown,” Y’lehna said sharply. “I wanna be in water. Like, H20.” She looked up at Trevor, pleadingly. “Do you think I’m asking too much? I don’t think I’m asking too much.”

“I think you should definitely eat something,” Trevor said.

“I don’t think it’s too much to ask,” offered Harrison eagerly.

“But I don’t want to get any food in the hot tub,” Ashlee whined. “It’d be gross, and we’d have to drain it and clean it…”

“Well, I want to be in the water and I want goddamn pretzels, is that too much? Is that really too much?” Y’lehna yelled, making Ashlee quail.

At that point they all heard the sound of clanging and shattering, and Kayla and Steve screaming like they were being murdered.

Ashlee shrieked in terrified response. The Pale Bro, Trevor and Nandini were all off the deck and running toward the sound in a second, followed by Rhiannon, Evan and Harrison. Y’lehna took the opportunity to grab an entire dish of pretzels, drop herself into the tub, and stand at the edge of the tub, facing the concrete around the tub and stuffing her face. “I can be responsible,” she muttered. “I can not get pretzels in the tub. I don’t have to eat underwater. I don’t even want to. Pretzels aren’t like fish. They get soggy.”

No one was there to hear her, though, because they had all gone into the woods.

The Pale Bro had only gotten in a few feet when Steve yelled, “Don’t come any closer, guys!”

“Are you being murdered?” Trevor asked, loudly.

“We will totally fuck them up if someone is trying to kill you!” Harrison said, clenching his fists.

“No, guys, it’s good… it’s all good.”

“It’s not good at all!” Kayla wailed. “I spent so much money on that beer!”

The Pale Bro heard the word ‘beer’ and conveyed that if something was going on with the beer he absolutely needed to know, right now.

“We dropped it!”

“We dropped it off a goddamn cliff,” Steve moaned. “Kayla had this whole big cooler—”

“It was so expensive! So much beer!”

“And we were carrying it together, and then I tripped on a tree root, and slipped, and Kayla tried to grab me… and we dropped the beer.”

“Off the cliff!” Kayla couldn’t have sounded more heartbroken if she were a young lady during the Vietnam War being told that her betrothed, who had been her childhood sweetheart since she was three years old, had had a completely sober four-way with two Vietnamese twins and their pet goat, and then had been killed by the Viet Cong while he was still cavorting with the goat.

In a voice that sounded like the auditory representation of hair raising combined with the scream of nails on a chalkboard, the Pale Bro expressed that he couldn’t believe this and Steve had been such a fuckup.

Steve, actually kind of intimidated, raised his hands. “I know, man, I’m sorry! We didn’t mean to!”

The Pale Bro then lectured the two of them about how if he’d been allowed to help in the first place, he wouldn’t have accidentally dropped the beer off the cliff and right now they would all be knocking back some sweet brews, but instead they insisted they could handle it and now all that beer had been tragically lost, cut down in the prime of its life, its yeasty lifeblood spilling out across the rocks and stones below where none could drink it except maybe some squirrels who would get themselves totally fucked up.

“Come on, man, it’s just beer,” Evan said. “We can get more.”

“Not if there’s a killer out there!” Kayla wailed. “We won’t be able to leave to go get beer until morning! What if the killer slashes our tires?”

The Pale Bro conveyed that if that happened, it was fucking on because no psycho killer, monster, or cousin was going to get between him and more beer.

Trevor, trying to be the voice of reason, said, “Folks, we’ve got a lot of beer in our cooler and we’ve barely touched it. There’s no use crying over spilled… beer.”

“Yes, there is! It’s very cryable!” Kayla declared, starting to cry.

“God, you’re drunk,” Nandini muttered. “Maybe you shouldn’t be hitting any more of the beer anyway.”

“Come on,” Steve said, putting his arm around Kayla. “It’s gonna be all right. Don’t cry. Trevor’s right, we’ve got a lot in our cooler.”

Kayla turned toward him and cried against his chest, as he hugged her with one arm and awkwardly patted her head with the other.

“Wow,” Nandini said. “You’re really into this guy, aren’t you?”

Steve turned red, which they could all see by now because they’d made their way out of the woods and back into the outside lights of the cabin. “Uh, I don’t think so, I’m just trying to comfort her…”

“You’re a white guy touching her hair and she’s putting up with it,” Nandini said. “Kayla’s been known to punch white people who touch her hair.”

“That was that bitch Madison and it was one time!” Kayla cried.

Steve removed his hand. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable, I just…”

“No! I like it when you touch my hair! I don’t like it when bitches like Madison touch my hair after they’ve just said some racist bullshit, but you’re being so sweet! You can officially touch my hair,” Kayla said, and then started sobbing again, hugging Steve tightly.

The Pale Bro audibly sighed, in a voice like a dude who’s just seen one of his best friends score a date with a chick he was really into and he can’t even be mad because it wasn’t like he got anywhere with her himself or even admitted to anyone how cute he thought she was.

***

The group returned to find that Harrison had wandered back to the hot tub as soon as it was clear that no one was being killed except maybe a large number of innocent bottles of beer, and was sitting outside the hot tub but right by Y’lehna, who was in the hot tub eating chips.

Nandini said, severely, “Y’lehna! Ashlee told you not to do that!”

“Ashlee can tell me herself,” Y’lehna said with chips in her mouth.

“I’ve been watching,” Harrison said brightly. “None of the crumbs have fallen in the water! It’s all good!”

Trevor snorted. “Well, of course you think so, Har,” he said. “You’ve got it bad, haven’t you?”

Nandini frowned, and then scowled, and glared at Evan. “Wait, you told me he was gay!”

“You said what?” Harrison was shocked.

Evan held up his hands. “Sorry, Har. But…” He looked over at Nandini. “I thought that if I told you that he only likes really unusual girls, you’d feel hurt because it would sound like I was telling you you were basic or something, and that’s totally wrong. You’re gorgeous and you could probably get any guy you wanted, except Harrison, because you don’t have scales or feathers or six eyes or something.”

“Well, you could have said that,” Nandini said.

Kayla said, “I get it. Rhiannon’s like that, too.”

“To be fair,” Harrison said, “I am bi.” This was information Evan had not known. “I just haven’t yet met any weird dudes who aren’t related to Pale here, and it’s just way too weird to date one of your bro’s actual brothers or something.”

“Does anyone know where Ashlee went?” Steve asked.

Everyone looked around. There was no Ashlee.

“Could she be in the bathroom, maybe?” Nandini asked.

“Don’t think so,” Y’lehna said. “She ran off while you guys were running to the woods. I wasn’t gonna get in the hot tub and eat pretzels if she was still here!”

“Uh, yeah,” Rhiannon said. “That’s a little long to be in the bathroom.”

The Pale Bro expressed in a voice that was exhaustedly done with this bullshit that he could look for her.

“Nah, man, I’ll do it,” Trevor said. “I know your feet are hurting, and I’m the next biggest guy after you.”

“I could go with you,” Steve said.

Trevor shook his head. “Steve… that is a cute girl who is very, very drunk,” he said, pointing at Kayla. “I don’t know her tolerance, but I’m pretty sure that if she isn’t at puke bucket level now, she will be soon. You need to stay with her and make sure she’s okay.”

“Yeah, good point,” Steve said.

Nandini turned back to Evan as Trevor walked away. “I can’t believe you lied to me, though. I mean, I know Rhiannon. I could have accepted ‘he’s only into weird-looking chicks’—”

“Thanks, Nandi, that’s sweet,” Y’lehna said.

“You know what I mean,” Nandini said, waving her hand dismissively.

“Look, I’m gonna come clean with you,” Evan said. “I really thought you were great. You’re hot, you’re smart – I’m not dumb, but when you talked about your major, I realized you could run rings around me – and you stay calm in a crisis, and I really respect that. But you asked me if Har had a girlfriend, and I just – I’m sorry. It was like you didn’t even notice I’m a dude, and that made me feel bad. So I did something shitty, and I gotta apologize to both you and Harrison.”

“I mean, no problem on my end,” Harrison said. “It’s all good, bro.”

“Damn,” Nandini said, running her hand through her hair. “I didn’t even think about what that sounded like when I asked you. I’m sorry, Evan, what I said to you was a shitty thing too. I mean, I still think what you did was worse because you were lying, but I understand why you did it.”

“Hey, I know you didn’t mean to hurt my feelings.”

“Evan’s right, though,” Harrison said. “I mean, not about me being gay, I like girls just fine, but…” He shrugged. “Girls that look like normal human beings, even beautiful human beings, it just doesn’t click. Y’lehna here’s really different-looking, and that is so hot.” He turned to Y’lehna. “You know you’re super-hot, right?”

“Yes,” Y’lehna said, “but boys like you don’t usually agree. So that’s nice.”

“I guess I can forgive you,” Nandi said to Evan. “But you’d better not lie to me again.”

“I am pretty sure you could kick my ass if I did, so I won’t. I like my ass un-kicked.”

“Your ass is okay,” Nandini said. “I’ve seen better asses, but yours is all right.”

Rhiannon had offered to give the Pale Bro a foot rub, since his feet hurt. A guy as big as he was suffered from foot pain frequently, so he’d agreed, while apologizing in a voice like a church organ in a cave for his toenails. Some might say his toenails were worth apologizing for, as they were about four inches long and razor sharp.

But Rhiannon disagreed. “Your toenails are great. Look how white they are! I never see guys without all kinds of grody fungus turning their toenails yellow. And I bet you’re amazing at climbing trees with them.”

The Pale Bro allowed that this was true, and that climbing in general was one of his talents.

Steve, meanwhile, wasn’t exactly sure what he ought to be doing with Kayla, who was now lying on her back, her head in his lap, rambling about stars and how far away they were. When she’d asked for another beer, he’d gotten her cold water instead and reminded her that water was important to avoid hangovers. She’d finished most of the water – the rest had spilled – and now she seemed to be close to falling asleep in his lap.

“You’re really into stars, huh?” he asked. “You an astronomy major?”

“Oh no!” Kayla laughed. “Math! I’d tell you all about it but I’m waaaaaay too drunk. I just reeeeally like stars!”

“That’s cool,” Steve said. “I’m a comp sci major myself.”

“Are you gonna build an AI that wants to take over the world and enslave humanity?” Kayla asked.

“Hey, I’d be happy if I could build an AI that can identify rocks as not sheep,” Steve laughed.

***

Trevor had very quickly guessed where Ashlee might be.

Ashlee was nervous and reacted badly to things that startled or scared her. Ashlee was also at her own house – well, cabin. So odds were, Ashlee had gone into the cabin to calm down.

The cabin wasn’t very big, and Ashlee wasn’t in any of the rooms in an obvious place. So Trevor started checking the not-obvious places, like a closet in a room that looked girly enough that it might be her room. He knocked on the door.

She shrieked, inside the closet, but he said, “Ashlee, calm down! It’s me, Trevor. Can I check on you to make sure you’re okay?”

“Uh… okay,” she said, and Trevor opened the door. Ashlee was sitting in a lighted closet, on the floor, completely covered to her shoulders with stuffed animals.

“Wow. Are you okay?” He squatted down. Being a big black man, Trevor had learned many strategies for making himself look less threatening. Not towering over somebody was one of them.

“Not… really?” Ashlee said.

“I know you were scared with all that noise. Hell, I was too. But it turned out to be nothing. Steve and Kayla accidentally dropped some beer over the cliff.”

“It’s not that,” she whispered. “It’s just… it’s too much. Too many people.”

“Yeah?” He sat on the floor crisscross applesauce, making himself even lower and more relaxed-looking. “You want us to go?”

“No! I mean, this was supposed to be a weekend with just my friends, and then you guys show up, but you’re nice guys! I like you guys! But it’s just so many people, I started to wig out.” She lifts an arm out of the sea of stuffed animals. “So I do this thing when there’s too many people and I start to freak… I find a tiny place and I fill it with soft things and I lay in them until my tachycardia goes away.”

“Tachycardia?”

“Oh, um, that means fast heart beat. Sorry. I just always call it that because it sounds scarier than fast heartbeat and it really is scarier so I want people to know it’s a problem.”

“I know what it means, I’m a pre-med. I just wondered—”

“Oh wow! I’m in pre-med, too!” Ashlee sat up , some of the stuffed animals falling off her. “I guess we’re not in any classes together because you’re a senior and I’m a sophomore, but did you have Lessing for Organic Chemistry?”

“You’re doing orgo in sophomore year?” Trevor whistled. “That’s fast.”

“Yeah, I, um, my high school had like this program where good students could do science classes at a nearby college, for college credit, in senior year, so I took chemistry then, and bio last year and also the math I needed, so I get to do orgo this year.”

“I hated orgo. It’s just memorize a bunch of prefixes and suffixes and string them together. Couldn’t we find a better way to describe methylethylpropylene than that?”

She laughed. “Is that even a real thing?”

“I don’t know, but it’s pretty ridiculous that I can put together a string of prefixes and make something that sounds like a chemical even if it doesn’t exist.” He shook his head sadly. “And yeah, I had Lessing. She’s tough. She giving your brain a real workout?”

“Yeah. It’s a challenge. Everyone always told me, ‘Ashlee, you can’t just coast along getting straight As without ever studying. Ashlee, when you go to college it’ll be a lot harder. Ashlee, you need to learn how to study or you’ll fail in college.’ Well… I haven’t failed yet, but… it might be close.” She sighed. “I’m sorry. I must sound so stuck up with my humblebrag. ‘Oh, it’s so hard to be a gifted student who gets straight As!’ But it really is hard. Because if it was too easy for you in school you don’t learn how to handle it when it gets too hard, and I’m just, like, totally stressed.”

“I feel you. My mom made me study, and I was like, ‘momma, I do not need to read the book and highlight all the important parts and then write them in an outline and then read over the outline! I got it the first time I read the book!’ And that was what she said. ‘You take shortcuts now because everything’s easy, you’ll be in a world of hurt when things get hard.’ And hell, I ended up in a world of hurt in orgo anyway.” They both laughed.

“Anyway, your friends are worried about you and I don’t want people to think we both got bumped off by a psycho killer, so I figure, there’s three options here. I leave and tell everyone you’re okay, and I leave you the hell alone; I leave and tell everyone you’re okay, and then I come back and we keep talking; or you and I both leave together and we both tell everyone you’re okay, and then we get to eat some chips, if Y’lehna and Harrison didn’t get them all already.”

“She’s in the hot tub eating chips, isn’t she.” It was not a question.

“Yeah, sad but true. At least she’s leaning over the side so the crumbs get on the concrete and they don’t fall in the tub.”

Ashlee sighed. “I guess I better get back out there. But I do still want to talk and stuff. And I wanna check up on Phenylephrine so maybe you can help me find her.”

“Phenylephrine?”

“My cat. The cat before her was Sudafed so when she died and I got a new kitten I named her Phenylephrine.”

“I get the joke there, but why was the first cat named Sudafed?”

“My mom was allergic to cats and she said if we get a cat we might as well name it Sudafed because she’d be taking so much of it, and then we did get a cat, so she did name her Sudafed.”

“Maybe she shouldn’t have gotten a cat if she was that allergic?”

“Oh, no, my mom loves cats. She just says wiseass things sometimes. Anyway, Phenyl lives here at the cabin and the cleaning service makes sure she gets fed. They call her the head of Mousekeeping Services.”

Trevor laughed.

***

Outside, it turned out there was no need to turn out a search party for Phenylephrine, as for some entirely inexplicable reason it turned out she liked chips, and also Harrison’s lap, where he was feeding her chips. She didn’t actually eat the chips, she just licked them.

The party was starting to flag just a bit; Evan suggested putting on some music, but the internet wasn’t good enough here for Ashlee’s Spotify playlist and she didn’t have MP3s on a hard drive like Evan did. Evan was regretting not putting a bunch of MP3s on a flash drive and bringing them with him. Nandini had a CD in her car – the girls had all come up here in their own cars, except for Y’lehna who couldn’t drive – but it was hit songs from Bollywood musicals and no one here knew any of them, and she was self-conscious about whether anyone would even like them.

And then, as they discussed what to do about tunes, a shadow fell across them, blocking the moon for a moment.

They all looked up, even the Pale Bro. A shambling monstrosity, 20 feet tall and brick red, with sprouting tentacles where its face should be and eyes on the tentacles, and Edward-Scissorhands-length blades for fingernails, loomed over them.

Several of the group screamed. The Pale Bro got to his feet.

“D̶̫̊̚Ũ̸̟̝͍̘̮͒Ḍ̸͋̽̀E̷̛̝̹̗͈̊͌̍,̷̨̖̲̺̤̝͂̈́̎͘ ̴̛̱͚͗Y̶̧͔͉̙͋͊̊͋͘Ô̸̢̥̙͙U̴͖͍̳̭͗̊̌͘͘͜R̷̫̜̘̀ ̶̼̘̠̾̐̈́̒̚Ṃ̴̡̡̦̮̖̿͗̊͋͝Ȯ̴͛ͅM̴̺̱͕̳̀ ̷̱͔̄̃̎́I̸̙͐̍͑͐S̶͉͉̲͋̊͒̽̄͜ ̵̤̙̬̫̒͋́͛P̷̧̧̧̰͔̦͠Î̴̢̜͒̅͘S̷̛̝̤͂́̍̐S̴̭͉͆̋̿É̴̢̺̲̫̝͋́̋̚̚D̴̥͈̠̋̅̅̀͝͝ ̴̡̡̖̬̓A̵͈͚̣͂̆̔̍̂̕T̷̡͙̠̙̫̎̈̄͝ͅ ̴͔͗̀̋͗̏Y̴̤͇̪͕͇͎͆̌̀̊̈́Ơ̸̡̢̙̭͇͕̒̐̕̕U̸̡̩̠̚.̸̣̖̼̫́͛̄,” the entity boomed.

In a sound like the rushing of lava through underground caverns just before a volcano was about to blow, the Pale Bro demanded to know if the entity had eaten any people lately.

“S̴̙̱͕̀H̴̭͐̈́͠I̷̘̟͉̝͊͐̄̋̀̑Ṱ̷̢̫̮͓̲̐̑͗̈́̀,̵͓̥͖͈̾́̏̇͘ ̵̣̳͍̿Ń̵̟̦̰͖̺͜O̸͉̓̈̊͛̔̕.̷̣̜̗̩̈́ ̸͖̋̓̀̀͝͝Í̶̘̗͓̱̗̬̀̈́'̴̗̯͈͈̥͎̎̇M̷̹̻͉̼͑̎̓̐̏̀ ̴͚̻͚̱̇̿͛̏͒͠O̴̩̪̣̯̤͙̐̐̚̚Ņ̶͇̘̤̗͗͗̑͛̏̇͜ ̸̡͎̔̽͛A̷̢̘̪͎̗͊͐̌͝͠ ̸̤̺͉̫̖̫̀̓̑̕̕D̴̡̜̤̻̉Ĩ̸̡̯͉͔́̓̂͘͝Ę̶̨̫͇̬̳̉̽͑̈̊͐T̸̥̝̹̑̾.̷̢̟̻̭̲̿ ̴̧̣͌̆̃̕ͅÏ̷̟̰̫̰̹̽̐̐F̶͖̂̉̌ ̵͔͚̊̐Y̸͔̆Ö̴̞̦͕̘̀̒̀͘Ṳ̶̪̝͙̎̿͘ ̵̥̀̏͗E̵̦̣̲͍͉̥̊V̶̑͒̏ͅȨ̷͚̪̲̎͜ͅR̵͎͖̀̓̈́͑͠ ̷̣̀̀̓͋C̸̲̗͎̞͔̭͌̈́̕͘Ã̶̝͉̮͉͉̓̄͒̈́͜͝M̵̙̮͎̹̌E̷̥̪̎̓͗́͝ ̷͎͓̙̺͔̗͂̑̕H̶̢̍͗́͋͊O̴̗̎̽̆M̴̮̭̮͐̑́̚Ë̶̩̦̹̞́͂̈́̆ ̴̩̻̈́͘Y̴̨͍̣̩͈̎̅͘͘O̵̠͉͒̐̈̕͝U̶̪̝̳̺͑͆̇'̸̖̋D̶̗̉̓̿͐̓ ̸͉̍̀͠K̷̥̞̼̍͛́̇͗͝N̵̡̹̠͚̥̰̋̈́̌̈́͘O̸̻̠͍̲͋̉Ẁ̸̞͎̺̀͆̌̀ ̴̛͔̙͗͗̉͠T̸̨̓̀̎H̶̡̱̘͈̹͐̔͗͂͘A̷̠̠͉͎̫̰̿̄T̴̡̰͍̦͕̉̌,” it said, rolling tentacles clockwise around its face in an approximation of an eye roll.

If that was the case, the Pale Bro shot back, explain why this entity’s footprint was found right outside his bro’s cabin, and a man was missing.

“Į̴̙͈̻̓͗͜ͅ ̷̙̑̔͛͝W̷̺̯̲͗͝Ã̸̹͕̊S̷̹̲͆̏ͅ ̵̝̈́̒͗̓̍L̸͖̺̊͛Ǫ̶̗̥̼͍̥̒̒̌̊O̸͙̊̎̋̏̕Ķ̴͚̫̤̈̔́̅͑͝Į̵͑̍Ṉ̸̨͌͂́Ǵ̵̭̥̹̮̞̏͂ͅ ̷͚͙̹̋F̸̧͕͉͓̊̾͊O̵̲̙͓͛̌̄̏̕̚R̴̬͚̠͉̬̘̽̀̌́͊ ̴͎̀̏̐͋Y̴͈̘̮͌͋̍̃̍̈́Ơ̷̞͉̝͙̻̒U̵̦̭͈̻̪̽͂͗̚,̴̳̐ ̸̢̠̙͕̰̐̅D̸̟̫̋͑̅̈́̄͜͝ͅŰ̵̡̜̤̺̿̍̃̈́M̵̼̜̳̊͊̋̈ͅB̷̧͖̲̮̤̜͋̐͑̔Ȁ̶̼̪̟̼̱̐̔̋̀͘S̷̨̳͂S̶̨̡͈̈́̐͂̿͜͠,” the entity said. “A̷͕̎͆Ṷ̴̢̣͙͐Ņ̷͓͔͕̙̟͛̿́̐͝T̶̠̹̜͇͐̾̊̂̚ ̸͔̐͋̓̓͐͝€̶͉̦̍̊̅₯̷̟̙̗̱̤̈́̋̌͂͌̚ῥ̷̠̩̇ῗ̶̦͎͚̃͊̾ᾗ̴̤̞̰͕͓̈́͜Ỷ̸͔̫͙̦͐ẞ̶̦͕̱́͂͑́͊̈́ ̵͉͍͉̼̐͑̈́͋͝S̷̢͇̽͗͛͊̏E̸͉̲̓̉̎̈N̸̤̾Ț̷̻̍́̍ ̴͓̱͉͍̝̄̐̀͜ M̷̹͖͝E̸̘̖͓̍͋͜ ̶̢̲̘͋ T̴̠̘̲̼̍̈́̄̏̃͝ͅǪ̷̨̡̤͕͎͠ ̴̬͑͊ T̵͚̫̆̏͘E̴͚̗̯̠̊͗͌̕̚ͅL̴̫̺̫̀̄̽̃̕L̶̡͚̫̬̈́͑̇ ̴̲͙̼̖̘̺̈͊̓̂͠ Y̸̰̳̰̑Ơ̵̢̼̯͕̌Ų̶̜̜͚͇̕ͅ ̶̟͎̫͌ Y̴͔̱̼̅̋̄̀͜O̴͕̰̰̎̄U̶͓̜̼̝͑̃͂͘͝ ̸̨͎̀͊Ṅ̵̢͙̙̹̀Ë̸̖E̵̢̪̪͛̒̈D̷͍͖̀̈̏͊͋̚ ̶̦̙̫̺͓̉͂͠T̸̙̮̬͚̚Ó̷̖̘̩̘̝̌̄ ̸͇͍͋͒̃̑Ṽ̸͉̞͔̘̱̃͑̌I̷͙͛͑͝S̸̢̗̬̞͂̽I̵̺̿̾͗̀̓̅T̷̢͈̺̹̀̇͊͐̊̍ͅ,̵̭̔ ̷̹̥̺̟̣͋̄͜Ş̵̺̱̃Ḩ̴̙͙̼͙͉̔̎̍̐́̃I̷͔͚͂̇̑͂͜T̷̲̱͔̬̓͠H̶̝̝͌̏͐Ę̴̨̰̙̤͖̎A̸͔͠ͅḐ̴̻͚͔̯̏́͐͘.̵͚͎̪͖̼̻̇̉.”

The Pale Bro replied, in a voice like the whining of an engine underneath the whapping sound of helicopter rotors, that he was on vacation with his bros and he was not here to visit his mom and she could just deal.

“A̶̱̘̬̪̝̓͌͊͐̚R̸͙͌̉̆̆̇̔ͅE̵̡̱̙̯̮̅͗ ̴͈͒̐Y̶̮̤̽̄O̴̢͓̙̝̮͉̾̆̈́̔̚͝Ų̸͚̗͓̞͎̀͝ ̶̡̬͚̄̆͌͋̉̆F̷̙͊͋U̷̿͊̊̽͌̚ͅC̴͙̦̼͕̈́̊̒K̴̬̘͆̀̑͒̐I̸̅́̈͒̅͠ͅŅ̴̪͍̭͂̈G̴̗̥͎͌̔̽̑̈́ ̸̻̰͆̈̕Ȟ̶̱̜̎̕Ī̴͎̝̖̼̤̱̏̐G̵͚͙̊͆̃̍̅ͅͅḦ̸̡̾̄̕?̵͉̫̠̉̈́̓ ̸̡͕̔͐Y̵̨͒͊̈̕O̴̮͓̼̽̓͝Ú̶̝̺͜ ̴̛̪̚ͅͅC̸̣̆͛̿̓̂Á̸͇͈̦͐͗̇͝N̸̞̭̲̻͖̦̽̈́̈'̶̪̪̐͐̈́T̸͔̘͌̄ ̴̨̪͙̫̩̐́S̶̩̋̃A̷̡̨͙͉͕͑́̔̓̌͜͠Y̸̯̝͕̋͗̄̾ ̵̲̜̥̥͆͊̾̑̊͜͝ͅT̴̟̭̼̲̐̄H̶͚̦̯̱̐̔͝Ą̴̥̤̅̃̄̂̾T̵̞̜̱̍̈́̔̕͜ͅ ̶̤͇͐Ṱ̷̃̾̚Ȏ̷͇͈͓̰͇͓ ̶͓̘̟̉̄̀͌̽ͅẎ̸̢̠̿Ỏ̸̧̢̹̹̀̓U̶̢̬͚̞̘͂́̃̆̽̔Ṛ̵̬̱̯̟̀͐̓̎̃͠ ̵̨̮̏̑̐̐M̷̽͜͝O̴̪̙͙͕̥̕͘M̵̨͉̫̭̩̔͑̈́̈̈͝!” the entity exclaimed.

“This is your cousin, bro?” Evan asked diplomatically.

In a voice like the moaning of the wind through a forest of dead things and disappointments, the Pale Bro admitted that this asshole was indeed his cousin, and was carrying a message from the Bro’s mom that he needed to come visit her, because somehow she’d found out that he was vacationing in the area.

“Well, why don’t you just tell him that you will go to visit your mom, in a few days, right before we head out? It is rude to be right near her house and not go visit her, but on the other hand you’re on vacation to spend time with us, so just do it at the end,” Evan suggested.

The Pale Bro expressed that if he absolutely had to visit his mom, that was probably the best way to handle it, and could his cousin kindly fuck off now.

“Ö̵̡̩͙̠̮͌̓̍K̶͈̬̳̰̺͂̋̂́̕Ạ̸̢̬̪̠̠̽͝Ÿ̴͓̰̰̻͔́̏͒̌͆,̶̮̉͒͒̿̏ ̵̦̺̠͓̩̲̍͆̉B̸͕̽͆Ư̵̟̔̈́̌̏͒Ţ̵̳̞̙̣̪̏̂ ̶͈̲̃͐̈́͋͛Y̴̝͍͌̈̍Ơ̶̙̝̱̘̈́̉́̊͒Ū̷͎̦ ̸͚̓B̷͕̥͊͗̿̒͝Ë̴͕͖̪͇̃́T̶͉̓̾̌̃̀͘T̵̨̟̠̩͚̜͂̎̚̕͝Ḙ̴͈̳̮͗̆͋̐́̈́R̶̡̛̪̮͖͓͙̍̈́͌́ ̸̧̘̻̞̣̈́͆͑̄͜N̷͎̦̬͊͌̆̌̕O̵̧̫̾́̾͜T̵͔̉́ ̸͔̒̀̐͆̌F̵̣͉̖̺̱̚ͅÒ̸̯̜̼̖̋̑͘͜R̶̲̦̱̭̱̙̆̈G̵͓̘̞͎̑̅E̴̲̓̿T̴̝̝̑͌̏̊̄̕ ̴̧̡̮̮͓͓̐͒T̸̡̛̖͈͒̕Ḥ̸̬̭͙̪̲̈́͌̈́̚͠͝Ì̸̡͎̝̎̈́̾͂̕S̷̠̻̣̈́̓͘̚ ̶̧̤̀̈́Ţ̴̧̛̫̫̑͗̓͌̉ͅÏ̵̧̘̰̆ͅM̶̮̤̎̉͜E̶̘̬̟͓̜͔̓̕̕̕,̶̗̈ ̶̖͇̞̀̾͑̓͜͠D̷̡̢̧̹̖͙͛̂̒̏̏I̵̛͍̘̜̲̥̓̏̅͐͂̋͝P̴̧̢̡̱͖̣͔̰̦̊̀Ṡ̸̳̺̓̓̕H̷̰̭̣͂͗Ị̶̢̧̜͇̅̎̓̈̉̂̃̐̕͜͜ͅT̶̰̰̋͐.̵͍̜̠̰͊͝ ̷̝͔̼̞͘ͅI̶̩͍̘͎̺̓'̷͕̟̗̣̳̻̀͂͠L̵̹̣̃͗̇͆L̴̢̛̩̤͖̬̆̚ ̸̲̬̲̈́͛͑̌B̴̘̹́́̈͝E̵͓͐̋͒͐̏̎ ̵͇̹̂͒Ẇ̵̨͎̣̝͔͘ͅA̷̻̗̫̍͑̈́̇̐T̸̥̱̘̲̳̋C̶̪̀H̵̢̏͜Ì̸̡̨͙̜̠̲͘N̸͖̹̦̿͊́͛̈́͝G̵̡̨̘̼̀̑̅̎.̷̍̑̆.” The giant creature lumbered off, back into the woods.

“Your family sounds like mine,” Evan said, commiserating.

“Mine, too,” Nandini said. “If I was within 50 miles of my mom while I was on vacation and I didn’t stop by to see her, I’d never hear the end of it.”

“I don’t think I’ve ever met your mom,” Steve said.

The Pale Bro suggested that that was just as well.

***

Kayla was napping on Steve, whose legs were starting to go numb but he didn’t want to risk waking her up. Trevor and Ashlee were talking animatedly about terrible professors and classes that were absolute bullshit but required for the pre-med track. Nandini, having forgiven Evan for lying to her about Harrison, had agreed to go on a date or two with him once they all got back to school, and see where things went. Also, she’d helped him recover his mom’s good knives, which they’d all dropped in the dirt when they got here so the girls wouldn’t be scared of them. Rhiannon continued to hit on the Pale Bro, who either didn’t notice, or was so flustered by a girl paying attention to him that he pretended not to notice. Y’lehna, somewhat overheated by spending too long in the tub and not drinking enough water, had a headache, and Harrison was tending her by getting her glasses of water with ice from Ashlee’s freezer.

Everything was going pretty well, and a lot of fun, except for Steve and his numb legs, when a man wearing a ski mask and carrying a bloody knife came out of the woods.

Everyone except Trevor and the Pale Bro screamed. The Pale Bro growled, less like a dog and more like the sound of the devil’s car engine, down in Hell, when the devil is revving it because he’s just challenged the Archangel Michael to a race in a demonic replica of NASCAR. Trevor took note of where Evan and Nandini had put all of Evan’s mom’s kitchen knives, and yelled, “Can we help you?”, preparing to grab a knife from the pile and go knife-fight the dude, just in case the Pale Bro was too drunk to simply lift the fellow up and toss him off the cliff that had already claimed Kayla’s case of beer.

“I hope so!” the man yelled back. “I’m in the middle of cutting up steaks for the grill, and I realize, I don’t have any potatoes! I was gonna do the potatoes on low and slow so they’d be nice and soft inside, but turns out, all my potatoes rotted and I haven’t got any, and it’d take like forty-five minutes to drive into town. And now it’s too late for baked potatoes, but I haven’t got any kind of starch, so I was wondering if you guys have any French fries?”

Trevor blinked.

“Uh, why are you wearing a ski mask?” Nandini asked.

“Oh, this!” The man pulled off the mask. “Haha, almost forgot I had this on! I’m anemic, so my face gets cold. I wear ski masks around to keep warm, but I forgot how that would look to somebody else. Wow, that was dumb of me.”

The man was a good bit older than any of them, maybe late 20’s or early 30’s. He was a white dude with a tan complexion, like Rhiannon’s, but it was a little grayish and unhealthy looking in the bright lights around the hot tub, which could be due to the anemia. His black hair was wavy and longish, parted on the side and going down to his shoulders, framing his face, and he had a mustache and beard. “My name’s Jason,” he said. “My girlfriend and I just moved back in to the cabin – we live here in the spring and summer months because my girl can’t handle the summer sun, she needs some shade – and I brought the steaks with me to celebrate, but I thought I had potatoes. I forgot, potatoes don’t survive being stored for four months.”

“Whew.” Evan shook his head. “That’s nasty, man. I hope you were able to get the smell out of wherever you were storing them.”

“It might take a few more good scrubs,” Jason acknowledged, grinning. “Hey, do you guys mind if I put the ski mask back on? I know what it looks like, but my face is really cold.”

“Go ahead,” Trevor said.

“Yeah, we don’t mind,” Nandini said. “If you turn out to be a serial killer, it’s not like you’re not a serial killer when the mask is off.”

Jason laughed again. “Well, I can eat a whole box of cereal in one sitting, so I guess you could call me a cereal killer.” Many of the college students groaned at the pun.

“You and your girlfriend, do you have kids?” Harrison asked. “Because that was dad-joke worthy.”

“Haha! Nah, no kids yet, dunno if that’s in the cards ever to be frank. Angella’s not much of a kid person.” He pronounced the name On-zhellah rather than An-jellah, like it was French or something.

“I don’t think I have any fries,” Ashlee said. “Or anything, really. When I’m here at the cabin I mostly drive down into town and get takeout. I mean, I’ve got bacon and eggs and bread for toast, and I could make you a PB&J or a lunch meat sandwich, but no real food.”

“That’s better than what I’ve got,” Evan muttered, and then, more loudly, “You got any tomatoes or peppers? I could chop them up and fry you some Spanish rice; I’d just have to go back to my cabin to get rice and spices.”

“Hey, man, that’d be awesome,” Jason said. “Yeah, I’ve got tomatoes and peppers. We’ve got a lot of steak and I don’t think even Angella’s appetite for bloody meat will put a dent in it, so if you guys wanted to come over and get some steak…”

The Pale Bro said in a voice like the moon had crashed but was still orbiting, scraping itself along the Earth’s crust as it went, that steak sounded sweet and he wouldn’t mind having some steak.

“Bro, you are just, like, an eating machine,” Harrison said. “But yeah, wouldn’t mind a steak.”

“I prefer seafood,” Y’lehna said, “but I don’t dislike steak.”

“Guys, Kayla’s asleep and I can’t leave her alone here,” Steve pointed out.

“I’ll stay here with Kayla,” Ashlee suggested. “You can go get steak.”

“I don’t feel great leaving you guys by yourselves, though, you sure you don’t want me to stay?”

At this point, Kayla lifted her head and asked blearily, “What’s happening?”, which solved the issue of who would stay with her; when steak was explained to her she cheerfully agreed that steak would be nice, and everyone else agreed that Kayla had had enough to drink that, assuming she didn’t puke it up, putting more food in her stomach might be a good idea.

Trevor and a couple of knives went with Evan back to Evan’s cabin to get the rice; the Pale Bro went with the rest of them to Jason’s cabin, both to make sure nothing happened to any of his friends, and because steak sounded awesome. Since Evan’s family had been coming here for vacations since he was a kid, he knew the area well enough to know how to get to Jason’s house once Jason gave him the address.

***

Jason’s cabin was about the same size as Evan’s, and it did not have a hot tub, but it did have a barbeque grill. Not one of those tiny little portable things that run on charcoal, either. This was a large fancy propane-powered grill of the kind that could practically be used in an industrial kitchen.

“Honey! I brought guests! And they brought beer! And their friend is gonna make us some Spanish rice!” he called.

A woman came out of the cabin, looking so goth she might as well have invented it. She had incredibly pale white skin, without even the undertone of red most healthy human beings have; she wasn’t quite as pale as the Pale Bro, but it was close. Long black hair slunk down her back like she was cosplaying Morticia Adams. She was wearing hip-hugging black jeans and a long-sleeved black blouse, and a chain around her neck with an Egyptian ankh on it, and her lips were blood-red.

Then she opened her mouth, and it became immediately apparent that she had fangs.

“How do you do,” she said in a vaguely quasi-European accent. “I’m called Angella Darque, with a q. And you are?”

The college students introduced themselves, Nandini wearing a very skeptical pair of eyebrows the entire time. After introductions were done, she asked, “Is your last name really Darque?”

Angella looked taken aback. Jason said, “It’s really Duncan, actually, but she’s getting together the legal paperwork to get it changed because she hates her dad. Deadbeat, never paid child support, you know the type.”

“Oh, Jason, I had no idea today was ‘let’s tell total strangers all about my girlfriend’s private history’ day. Is that what we’re celebrating?”

“Sorry.”

“His lips are so loose,” she confessed to the students. “Sometimes I just want to… sew them shut.”

“Isn’t she hilarious?” Jason laughed. “We met at a support group for people with anemia, five years ago, and we’ve been together since.”

“Um,” Ashlee, obviously very nervous, said. “Uh, we brought some beer if you want. And also wine coolers. Would you like a wine cooler?”

“No, I never drink… wine,” Angella said. And then, “Do you have anything like a Jaeger?”

“Evan’s got vodka back at the cabin,” Steve volunteered.

“Does your cell phone work up here? Maybe you could call him,” Jason said. “Or I could, if he’s got a landline.”

“Oh, no, I wouldn’t want to put anyone out,” Angella said. “I have 151 here, and that’s quite fine. Would any of you like some?”

“Yeah, slip it on me!” Kayla cheered, somewhat mangling her idiom.

Nandini and Y’lehna said at the same time, “No.” And then Y’lehna clarified. “I’m a little drunk, but she’s, like, totally plastered. We can’t even let her have a beer at this point. Soda’s cool, though.”

The Pale Bro conveyed in a voice like a million marbles suddenly gaining sentience and stampeding for a cliff to fling themselves over like lemmings, except that lemmings don’t really do that, that he would appreciate a rum and Coke.

Angella went back in the house to make the Pale Bro a rum and Coke with dangerously-high-proof rum. Harrison, Steve, and the girls looked at each other. Finally Rhiannon said, “I thought maybe I saw… your girlfriend has fangs? What’s up with that?”

“Pretty cool, huh?” Jason said cheerfully. “Now you guys need to let me know, should I use the rosemary garlic marinade, the pineapple ginger, or the Brazilian steakhouse?”

“Why not mix it up?” Harrison asked. “You got a lot of steak there, you could do ‘em all!”

“I don’t think pineapple ginger would go well with steak,” Ashlee said uncertainly. “Doesn’t that sound like more of a pork thing?”

“Or fish,” Y’lehna said. “Oh, but wait! Nandini, can you even eat pork?”

“I can eat anything,” Nandini said irritably, “but my family’s Hindi, not Muslim. I’m supposed to stay away from beef, not pork. But some traditions I don’t even believe in is not going to stop me from eating a nice steak.”

“I could add pork medallions, if you thought it was a good idea,” Jason said.

“Nah, man, you’ve got a lot of meat here,” Harrison said. “It looks great! Maybe if you had like a swordfish or tuna steak for Y’lehna, but if you don’t, no worries.”

“I got a salmon.”

“Pineapple ginger might go really well with salmon,” Y’lehna suggested.

Meanwhile Angella had brought the Pale Bro his rum and Coke, and they were currently discussing literary trends in fiction aimed at college-educated women.

***

Evan and Trevor returned with rice, spices, dried vegetables, and coincidentally, a can of pineapple chunks. Jason ended up preparing the salmon with the pineapple chunks after defrosting it in his microwave, and Evan made the Spanish rice he’d promised, and no one actually questioned why someone had started grilling steaks at midnight.

The salmon was done first, and Y’lehna and Nandini, who was feeling just a little bit guilty over her earlier decision to eat beef, got most of it. Angella got the first steak that came up, when it was barely warmed, still dripping blood. Then the rest of them, as the rest of the steaks were all done around the same time, along with the rice.

At some point, Evan suggested that everyone return to his cabin, because he had video games and music and nice speakers; Jason and Angella turned the offer down, Angella saying, “The night is young, and has yet to yield all its delights”, which was really corny and pretentious, but given the look she gave Jason when she said it, none of the guys questioned why he was staying at his own cabin tonight instead of going with them. Ashlee also insisted on staying at her own cabin; after a whole night of having ten people at her house, she was kind of burned out on people, and needed to get some sleep. And everyone agreed that Kayla should stay at Ashlee’s cabin; she was still cheerful and fun, but she was still pretty plastered. Because of the potential threat of a killer, Steve volunteered to stay with the girls; he knew Evan’s landline number, so he could call in reinforcements if necessary. Everyone else trooped back along the road, many carrying tinfoil-covered plates of steak and spicy rice, back to Evan’s cabin.

There was blood dripped onto the driveway.

The Pale Bro noticed it before anyone else, with his multiple sensitive eyes. His arm went out to block Evan from going any further, and in a voice like the rumble of an entire river’s worth of water pouring from a broken dam, he warned everyone of the blood and suggested he should go first.

Evan put up his hands. “No problem, man,” he said. “You take point.”

“I’m right behind you,” Trevor, holding one of the knives in front of him, said.

“Okay, I’ll bring up the rear,” Nandini said. “Harrison, Y’Lehna, Rhiannon, Evan, you go between us.”

Harrison looked at Nandini, who was taller than him, and then at the others. Evan was maybe the same height as Nandini, maybe very slightly taller… or very slightly shorter. It was too dark for Harrison to accurately judge.

He, too, put up his hands. “Works for me,” he said.

Evan looked back at Nandini. “I feel like I should be back with you,” he said. “If Pale’s got Trevor as backup…”

The Pale Bro pointed out, in a tone that conveyed deep irritation, that he didn’t need backup because if it was a human killer he’d make short work of them and if it was a monster, only he had a chance, and anyway it was probably not a monster because his cousin had claimed to be on a diet and the only reason they’d thought it was a monster in the first place was his cousin’s footprint. He then walked forward resolutely.

The door to the cabin was hanging open. The Pale Bro ducked his head way down, which he was pretty much used to doing any time he was going through a door, and pushed through, followed by Trevor. They’d left all the lights on, with the shutters closed, so that the light leaking around the edges of the shutters would make someone think they were home, and also because the lights were LED bulbs so seriously, that was probably like only thirty cents worth of electricity wasted. In that light, they saw blood all over the floor.

All of the group looked at each other uneasily. Ever since the Pale Bro had found the girls and the hot tub, no one had really been acting as if there genuinely was a potential killer out there; they’d given lip service to the idea, they’d certainly gotten scared enough every time something bizarre happened – and a lot of bizarre things had happened – but they hadn’t really treated it as a serious risk. Now it seemed possible that someone had been murdered in Evan’s cabin, or had been stabbed somewhere else and staggered into Evan’s cabin, despite the fact that all the locks had been locked.

The Pale Bro went forward into the kitchen, following the blood trail – and stopped in confusion. This caused everyone else to stop short, without being able to see into the kitchen because the Bro was blocking the doorway.

“Come on, bro, what’s going on?” Evan asked.

The Pale Bro slid sideways out of the way in a fashion that didn’t quite look like a real way anything could possibly move, and Evan pushed forward to be right behind Trevor, both of them crammed into the doorway.

A middle-aged white dude wearing a baseball cap advertising Evan’s parents’ company was at the sink, his front covered in blood. He had turned to face all of them, his hands clean but his sleeves completely saturated with something’s death juices.

“Joe?” Evan said disbelievingly.

“Evan!” Joe said. “I’m so sorry about the mess, man, and the hour, I know you’re pissed and I don’t blame you, I’d be pissed too, I know I’m really late—”

“Joe. Why are you covered in blood? What happened?”

“The meat defrosted,” Joe said. “I was driving around this mountain trying to find the cabin for so long, the meat defrosted, and when I pulled it out of my trunk, the bag caught on something and ripped and all the blood from the meat defrosting was all over me. I’m so sorry.”

“Why are you—” Evan glanced at a fancy cuckoo clock on the wall that actually ran on batteries, not solely on clockwork. “—getting in at two fucking am when you were supposed to be here before six?”

“I have been driving around this mountain since four in the afternoon,” Joe said. “My GPS stopped working halfway up the mountain, and I swear I tried to follow your mom’s directions, I swear, but I couldn’t find Long Leaf Lane no matter how hard I looked, and I went back down and asked at the gas station but none of them lived on the mountain, so I bought a paper map but it didn’t help at all because Long Leaf Lane wasn’t even on it—”

“It’s a private drive, I don’t even know if they put those on maps,” Evan said.

“Evan, if this is your guy with the food and he’s not dying of stab wounds, I’m going to use your bathroom,” Nandini said. “Where is it?”

“There’s two, one upstairs with a claw-foot tub and one down on this floor, go back out of the kitchen and it’s the door on the east side of the living room,” Evan said.

“Great, using the downstairs one,” Nandini said, and ducked back out of the doorway.

“Are you okay?” Rhiannon asked Joe.

“I’ve been driving for ten hours. Last six of which I couldn’t find my way back down the mountain either, and I didn’t have any food and the only water was the ice that used to be in my Sprite that melted—”

“Come on, man,” Evan said, sighing. “Yeah, the GPS situation really sucks around here. I wouldn’t wanna try to find Long Leaf Lane if I hadn’t been coming here every summer for, like, ten years. Let’s get you upstairs and get you cleaned up.” He looked over at Harrison and the Pale Bro. “Guys, you know more or less where the stuff in the kitchen goes, right? Can you put the food away?”

“The ice cream melted,” Joe moaned. “I’m so sorry…”

“No, come on. Let’s get you a shower and a change of clothes. I’ll borrow something of Steve’s while you’re in the shower, he’s about your size.”

“I think I know,” Harrison said. “We put the meat in the freezer?”

Rhiannon and Evan said, “No!” at the same time, and Rhiannon added, “You’ve got to put it in the fridge. You can’t freeze most things twice, they get freezer burned.”

“Huh,” Harrison said, looking over the sheer quantity of meat that Joe had been trying to carry in a paper shopping bag with handles. “I guess we’re gonna go back to Jason and Angella’s at least one night this week, ‘cause this is way more meat than we can eat before it goes bad.”

The Pale Bro, who had just picked up the bag of melted ice cream and slurped the whole thing down like it was a milkshake, said, in the voice of a creature whose mouth was entirely full of melted ice cream, something very much like “Watch me.”

“Lemme go throw this shit out,” Harrison said of the paper shopping bag, whose bottom had almost disintegrated from holding way too much au jus for even a strong, well-made paper shopping bag to handle, and which smelled like a murder had been done, or at least that someone had lost an arm and was bleeding out.

Evan took Joe upstairs to the bathroom to wash himself, broke into Steve’s suitcase and took a random t-shirt and pair of shorts, and advised him that he could stay overnight, sleep on the couch, and have some eggs and bacon in the morning, now that he had brought the eggs and bacon.

And then they all heard Harrison screaming.

Evan got down the stairs approximately as fast as Nandini came racing from the bathroom, but Rhiannon, Y’lehna and the Pale Bro were out the door faster, having been closer.

Harrison was on the ground. The trash can had been dumped over. It was mostly cleaning products used by the team that cleaned the cabin between uses, but there were some banana peels and candy wrappers – and now, a bloody shopping bag – in the pile of trash.

Standing over the pile of trash, looking kind of pissed, was a black bear.

In the voice of a guy who has finally, finally gotten the chance to use his strength and size to protect his friends after like what seemed like twenty-seven false scares tonight, the Pale Bro said something that could possibly be understood to be “Fucking finally,” and charged at the bear.

The bear had a lot of mass, even more than the Pale Bro, who was a very, very skinny dude, but the Pale Bro was around twice as tall as the bear, had much longer claws, and was doing something weird to the space around the bear, making lensing effects that distorted all the angles of the trees and branches behind the trash can. The bear flailed a bit, and then the Pale Bro lifted it and held it straight out from his body, where its much smaller paws couldn’t hope to reach. It snarled and kicked and scratched, but the Pale Bro relentlessly carried it into the woods, where they both disappeared.

“Well.” Evan said. “Who wants to help me clean up this trash?”

“’Want’ is a strong word,” Harrison said, but he helped, and Nandini and Rhiannon pitched in. Y’lehna would have helped, but she had to run back into the cabin to run cold water over her arms and legs.

The Pale Bro returned minutes later, without a scratch on him. “Where’d you put the bear, dude?” Harrison asked.

The Bro conveyed that he could possibly have gone out to the cliff that ran alongside the road – the same cliff that, in a different location, had claimed the life of an entire case of beer – and by the way, did any of them know that bears bounce? Because he hadn’t.

“Dude, you didn’t have to kill it,” Evan complained.

“Yes, he did! It was gonna kill me! I don’t want it coming back for revenge!” Harrison gabbled out.

The Pale Bro declared that he hadn’t killed it. Before anyone could feel either relief or fear over that, he added that his mom lived down that way someplace and she would probably kill it, because eldritch spawn eat a lot and he had a lot of brothers and sisters.

***

And so the first night of their vacation ended, with the Pale Bro staying up all night playing video games with Trevor, who’d returned to the cabin with Steve once they’d both been informed that there was no psycho killer and Joe was actually fine, he’d just gotten really lost. Evan, Harrison and Steve went to bed like normal people, or rather, like normal people who are young men in college, around four am, after walking Rhiannon, Nandini and Y’lehna back to their cabin like gentlemen, because psycho killer or no, the woods were dark and any number of things could happen. In other words, it was a perfectly normal night on vacation, just like any group of friends in college might have.

As for anything that might have happened the next day, or any of the other days of their vacation… that’s a story for another time.

#52 project #spooky 5 #comedy #horror #except not really

39 notes · View notes

marvel-queens-world · 4 years

Text

Civil War

Word Count: 1,427

Warnings: None

There were a few up sides to being Tony Stark’s daughter but it also came with its down sides. Like right now for example you and the rest of the Avengers were sitting around the table being told to sign the accords, something you completely disagreed on much to the displeasure of your father.

“Y/n, you need to listen to what I’m saying. Just for one moment in your life I am your father after all.” Tony says.

“I’m 25 years old I can make my own decisions and my mind is made up I am not signing those accords it isn’t the right thing to do and deep down you know I’m right.”

You stand up and head to your room, closely followed by Steve.

“Are you okay?” He asks.

“Yeah I’m fine. I just hate how he tries to control my life. Its like I’m 10 years old all over again.” You say.

“I know Y/n but I suppose he is just doing what he thinks is best for you.”

“Yeah I guess he is.” You sigh.

“Not meaning to change the subject but have you had any luck on finding Bucky?”

“No, I’m sorry Steve the guy is hard to find but I promise I will not give up.”

“Thank you Y/n, I know you’ll find him one day. I’ll leave you to it then.” Steve smiles.

Steve leaves your room, you felt bad for lying to him but its what Bucky wanted for now at least. The thing is you had helped Bucky find a place to lay low a couple of years ago and you would sometimes visit him You would tell Steve that you were off to search for him, who would then cover for you when someone asked where you had gone. Over time you two had fallen for each and had begun a relationship, something that Bucky wasn’t keen on at first as he was scared he would hurt you but eventually he came round to the idea when he realised how happy you made him.

A few days later

“I can’t believe you knew where Bucky was this while time Y/n.” Says Steve.

“I’m sorry Steve I wanted to tell you but he made me promise not to say anything to anyone just yet. Please don’t be angry with me.”

“I’m not angry with you. I just thought he would have wanted me to know that he was okay and where he was.”

You and Steve were in Bucky’s apartment. He had been accused of bombing the UN. You knew he was innocent but everyone else seemed to believe it was him and you knew that they would all be after him, so you had no choice but to tell Steve where Bucky was.

“Y/n.”

You turn round to see Bucky standing there. you make your way over to him and he engulfs you into a hug,

“I’m sorry Buck I had no choice but to tell him where you were.”

He lets go of you and looks over your shoulder to see Steve standing there.

“Do you remember me?” Steve asks,

“Your name is Steve.”

“There are people after you Buck.”

“I know. I wasn’t in Vienna. I don’t do that anymore.”

Well the people who are coming for you think you did and they’re not planning on taking you alive.” Steve tells him.

“That’s smart. Good strategy.” Bucky says.

“We need to get you out of here Bucky.” You finally say.

Before he can reply gunshots begin to be fired in the room and Bucky quickly grabs you.

“Y/n, you need to get out of here.”

“I’m not leaving without you Bucky.”

The men burst through the windows. Steve takes a few out and you help with the rest. As you turn around you see Bucky leaving the apartment. You and Steve chase after him.

“Bucky.” You shout.

He looks up at you as he continues to fight the men that are after him but instead of coming back to you he runs off. After helping Steve, you manage to find him and watch him jump across to other building.

“As I hate to admit it I can’t make that jump.” You tell Steve.

“I’ll go after him. Sam help Y/n.”

You hear Sam reply in your ear piece, as Steve jumps to the next building, you see a guy in a black cat suit chasing after Bucky. You see Sam flying towards you, you jump and he catches you. You tell Sam to help Steve after he sets you down on the ground, you manage to steal a car and catch up with all three of them just in time to see Bucky fall off his motorcycle. You quickly get out the car and run towards them, as you walk towards Bucky, War Machine lands right in front of you.

“Stand down.” Rhodey says.

You stand next to Bucky with Steve and Sam on your other side.

“Congratulations Cap you’re a criminal. Y/n what do you think your dad is going to say about this?

You, Bucky, Steve and Sam are all taken into custody in Berlin. You are taken into a separate room to the guys and you know perfectly why you are on your own. You sit down and wait. After what finally feels like forever, your father finally comes into the room.

“Would you care to explain as to why the hell you were helping Barnes.” He shouts.

You stay silent not wanting to talk to him.

“He is a murderer Y/n. you were helping a criminal.”

“That wasn’t him. He was brainwashed when he did all those things and he didn’t bomb the UN. He doesn’t do that anymore.”

“How would you know?”

“Because I have been helping him to get his memories back.”

“My own flesh and blood. Why Y/n?”

“I’m in love with him.” You whisper

“What?”

“We fell in love and have been in a relationship for about a year.” You say.

“You will never see him again. Do you understand me?”

Tony leaves, locking you in the room. You fall to the floor in tears. After a while you just wait for someone to finally let you out when suddenly there is a blackout. The door opens and you make your way to find someone. You finally spot Bucky and your father fighting and you realise that he is in Winter Soldier mode. You run over to him and punch him in the side, he turns round and with his metal hand grabs you around the throat.

“Bucky. Its. Me.” You gasp.

You are trying your best to get him to recognise you. Bucky throws you across the room, you are gasping for breath, your hand on your throat as he walks towards you but before he can get any closer T’Chella kicks him out the way and the two begin to fight. You get up and go over to your dad, to make sure he is okay, before following Sam outside. Once out there you see a helicopter fall into the water. You both run to the crash site just in time to see Steve appear from the water with an unconscious Bucky. After helping Steve with Bucky, you manage to find a hideout, whilst waiting for Bucky to wake up. A few more minutes later he begins to stir and slowly wakes up.

“Steve.” Sam shouts.

Steve comes running to where you, Sam and Bucky are.

“Which Bucky am I talking to?” Steve asks.

“Your mums name was Sarah, You use to wear newspaper in your shoes.” He laughs.

After a bit more talking Sam kind of believes that Bucky isn’t in Winter Soldier mode.

“Can we take his arm out the vice please?” You ask.

Steve does as you ask and then signals to Sam to leave you and Bucky alone for a bit. Bucky gets up and walks over you, pulling you into his arms for a hug, as he pulls away he notices the red mark across your neck.

“I did that to you, didn’t I?” Bucky asks.

“No, the Winter Soldier did. Bucky that wasn’t you,”

“He said the words Y/n and I hurt you.”

“Hey, it wasn’t you, okay? I love you no matter what and we will get through this.”

“I love you too Y/n.” He tells you.

Bucky cups your face and kisses you. You knew this wasn’t going to be an easy fight but you were willing to fight for Bucky no matter what the costs are.

A/N: Hope you guys enjoyed this imagine. I do have a part 2 lined up for this if anyone would like a part 2. So please let me now you thoughts would be very much appreciated

#Bucky Barnes #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes imagines #bucky barnes imagine #Sebastian Stan #sebastian stan imagines #sebastian stan imagine #sebastian stan x reader

119 notes · View notes

kaypeace21 · 3 years

Note

do you think it’s possible sarah (hoppers daughter) was an early-formed alter that went dormant before the events of season one? it’d make a lot of sense with how much of hoppers arc in season one was him mourning her and channeling that grief into protecting will (which would make sense since he seems like a protecter to both will and el). love your posts!☺️

Yep . :D

I already discussed all of this in the original did post - how sarah was a “little” (kid ) alter. And how hopper was a protector /introject alter. I also discussed her going dormant as a major possibility in my did theory. My assumption is she either (a) “became dormant” like some alters do- aka they are “gone” sometimes for many years but can return . And this can happen in a myriad of ways - sometimes alters go dormant after they had a simulated death in the inner world . theoretically sarah had such a Death. And so did El. Death isn’t really a permanent thing for alters ...they usually will come back or stay dormant - unless the body of the host dies (or they integrate) . They can’t really die . I think it’s very possible she comes back and Hopper while exploring the various innerworlds of Will’s minds (like the Russian one, the memory scapes , etc ) reunites/ finds her . look at the st s4 movie inspirations. In ‘what dreams may come” a guy with the guidance of his dead kid explore a heaven like world influenced by a painter’s emotions.We also have the movie ‘inside out’ -which involves “memory islands” (distinct worlds based on a child’s memories) which are influenced negatively by the kid being depressed she moved to California. The characters traveling to these memory islands are constructs of kid’s mind -and 1 of them also has a guide helping them explore the ‘memory islands’. in Inception a guy says he’s a construct of a guy’s mind and needs to help him escape the many different Ievels of the dream worlds.The in inception who made the worlds- had dad issues. 'the cell’also had alternate dimensions of a man's mind that a cop explored ( the dimensions were created by a man who was ab*sed by his dad). Movies like inception, matrix, Truman show, total recall, the cell, enter the void, wizard of oz, Peter Pan, hellraiser 2, dream warriors, bill & ted’s bogus journey, and welcome to marwen also allude to this: because they involve entering simulated abstract worlds usually created/based on happy& traumatic memories/fears.Cough s4 using the movie wizard of oz quote “we’re not in Hawkins (kansas) anymore.While truman show/matrix are more about realizing your reality isn’t real.in bladerunner 2044/total recall it has the theme of false implanted memories… probably relating to hopper realizing he’s an alter and not in “actual Russia.” Before seeing the other segments of the innerworlds with sarah. Like in total recall- the bad ass spy is told all his memories: his wife/ years of marriage, , his name, are just implanted memories. And she says “you’re life is a dream.”

In s2 Nancy asks Steve how his “grandpa’s time in the war is a metaphor for your life?” And steve compares the mf to the germans in the war. Dr owens mentions Will has ptsd like “ (vietnam) soldiers’, Hopper saying he had buddies like Will . “In the 70s there was a study that compared the post-traumatic stress symptoms in Vietnam veterans and adult survivors of childhood s**ual ab*se. The study revealed that childhood s**ual ab*se is traumatizing and can result in symptoms comparable to symptoms from war-related trauma.” Hopper isn’t actually in Russia -but in one of the innerworlds (after he jumped through the rift of the machine- into Will’s mind). We’ll see flashbacks but also present circumstances of his imprisonment echo Will’s past with Lonnie (if the movies indicate anything)- being starved, guards getting payed in order to let other prisoners r*pe a gay prisoner (than claim incorrectly because of his sexuality he wanted it) , as well as a gang of sadist men who r**e others and a warden using that as a threat to be compliant , being thrown in a dark room of solitary confinement and starved when they didn’t obey the warden, the warden being religious, etc. And the Anerican soldiers (in Vietnam) in the movies aren’t much better and do similarly horrific acts to civilians like r**e and bragging/ happily k*lling women, children, and the elderly. The drill sergant in vietnam calling them homophobic slurs & women, and chocking one of the soldiers with one hand, slapping one for not believing in christianity. Tying up a soldier in a bed , gagging him, beating him and saying “remember it’s just a dream.” Only praising them when good in fire arms.(movies : fullmetal jacket, papillon, shawshank redemption, platoon, welcome to marwen, etc ) . My assumption is flashbacks of his life- will hint he’s an alter of Will’s-the boxes in the basement are “vietnam” ,“dad”, and “ny” (and these are the memories of his we’ll see). And some of the bad characters in said stories will also parallel Lonnie . For instance in s2, Jonathan mentions Indiana writer Vonnegut- In his book ‘slaughterhouse 5′- Vonnegut begins the story of Billy Pilgrim, a man who has “come unstuck in time”. It accounts of Billy Pilgrim's capture and incarceration by the Germans during the last years of World War II, and scattered throughout the narrative are episodes from Billy's life with his dad, and his own wife and kids.Billy is forced to be part of the war and similar things against his free will. The moments start from his childhood when his father throws him in the water to teach him how to swim. He was unwillingly drafted into the war. Later, he is kidnapped by Tralfamadorians (aliens that are implied to be caused by his mental health issues/trauma) against his will. Therefore, he realizes that this concept is just an illusion.

And some of the bad characters in said stories will also parallel Lonnie . Like how in ‘peterpan’- the young girl Wendy imagines netherland and the villain -captain hook- is based off her father ( in the movie they have the same voice actors/while in all stage productions the 2 characters are always played by the same actor). Similar to the other s4 film- ‘wizard of oz’ where the wicked witch of th west from the mythical land of Oz (is played by Dorothy’s real life mean neighbor in the real world/kansas). Or ‘in the cell’- every villain from the alternate-mind- dimensions is played by same actor in diff makeup. Not sure if they’d use Ross Patridge (actor of Lonnie) in this way . But it would be very interesting if (In makeup) Ross played many negative people in Hopper’s life/past -as a way to show Will’s past tr*uma.

Like also-look at Sarah’s tiger plushie! In chinese mythology/culture: “The tiger is personified by the constellation Orion (interesting given Sara’s interest in space/blackholes). The tiger represents protection over human life (hmm?). Tiger charms were used to keep away evil and disease (that’s awful ironic if she died in the manner she did). In Buddhism, wearing tiger skins during meditations was believed to bring protection from spiritual interference and potential harm while exploring astral dimensions.” HMMMMMMMMM XD

Kali in the stranger things novel ‘Suspicious Minds’ says…

“I was named after a goddess. She wore a tiger skin and was fierce in battle.”

Then Kali says to Alice (a women who can see future visions): “I love you, Alice. We can be tigers together.”This parallel (in relation to Alice) is fascinating because Kali actually uses her powers to fake Alice’s death- and to trick Dr. Brenner, and allow Alice to escape. The allusion was so realistic, that Terry could even touch the ‘dead’ Alice.

So the tiger symbolism could be a HUGE hint- that Sarah’s death was simulated and she’ll come back and travel the innerworlds/alternate dimensions of Will’s mind (as Hopper’s guide). Hopper about sarah “galaxies the universe-she always understood that stuff.”

Another possibility (theory b) is she integrated with another alter or with Will (which means she can’t return) .Hopper saying about Sarah “the black hole it got her.” Could imply she integrated with the mf/shadow monster? And ,or maybe she will later ?

But... I lean heavily to theory (a) the most , though.

Obviously sarah has a lot of the connections to Will. will and Sarah both being into science, Sarah winning a spelling bee, Will winning the science fair, both being connected to tigers. Both hallucinating something no one else can see and people trying to snap the 2 out of what they’re viewing. Joyce saying as a witch she’ll eat Will. Parallels Hopper saying as an ogre he’ll eat sarah. Hopper, in s1, when seeing Will (with a vine in his mouth) has a flashback of Sarah on a mouth respirator. And he also has a flashback of Sarah when seeing Will’s lion plushie which resembled Sarah’s tiger plushie. And el also had a lion plushie-like Will’s in s1. Hopper monitored both Will and Sarah at the hospital when they were “dying”. Will has a fear of clowns- and Sarah’s hospital gown had clowns on them. All 3 kids draw.

Plus, we all know the parallels of Will to El (Hopper’s new daughter).

I discussed in my did theory that Hopper (as an adult alter) is a form of protector to all the kid alters - el, Sarah, and Will (host/core). And Hopper as an introject-alter (who are alters based on a person the child knows ) are usually put in the system cause the kid assumes that person could protect them . And since original-Hopper was a police man (a little kid could easily assume that). Although, because he’s a “father figure” for the system he has some of Lonnie’s traits- which are reflected in other perpetrator alters/ bad npcs in the system- Brenner, Neil, Billy, the evil’s Russians,etc . So sometimes he acts similar to a Perpetrator alter too . And I listed those examples/bad parallels extensively in the original did post (linked in the beginning).

And I used these quotes from psych papers in my original did post to pretty much sum up Hopper’s use in Will’s system .

“Introjects can also be based off of figures that the dissociative child found strong, courageous, heroic, or otherwise worthy of being emulated and internalized and could theoretically protect them.”

“Older adult alters are created to serve a nurturing or parenting role, thus serving as a protector. (*protecting Will/el) . However, sometimes their older age is related to taking on the identification of the ab*ser and can therefore take on any of the other more hostile roles too ... Introjects which are mimicking ab*sers are trying to "keep you inline" in order to protect you from external ab*sers. They are copying behaviors shown to them by bad people, not harboring the intent, s*dism or imm*rality of the actual perpetrators.”

I think it pretty much sums up the nuances and motivations of Hopper’s character.

Thanks for the ask, anon :)

#jim hopper #stranger things #sarah hopper #will byers #kali prasad #el hopper #stranger things theory #did theory #s4 theory #st movies

42 notes · View notes

springmagpies · 4 years

Text

My Uncle Reacts to AoS Season 4

So, instead of getting chores done this morning, my uncle and I finished Season 4 of Agents of Shield. Here are his reactions! Enjoy! Fair warning, it is a long post because Steve had a lot of feelings.

4x01

Before the episode: I’m guessing Coulson was like “I got too close to the situation and could no longer be impartial.” And then he passed over the title of director to May or that general guy. Talbot! That’s his name.

He’s like ghost rider is all. Holy crap he is ghost rider! I didn’t realize he was marvel.

Why’d they have to break up the band?

I am concerned about the robots.

Well, ghost rider is badass.

4x02

“You’re an engineer Mack. And a small tank.” Bwhahahahahaha, that’s so true.

The director is Talbot. Ooooh, not Talbot. Someone new.

Oh, Daisy has a picture of Lincoln. I miss him.

May is not okay. May needs a nap.

I still can’t get over Mack offering that maybe they’re just ghosts. Fitzsimmons faces were amazing.

Mace is such a politician.

4x03

*Lincoln is mentioned* Owwwwwww

I love the Phil, Mack, and Fitz team up.

Wow, Fitz is badass this episode.

Okay, so Elena is amazing. That shot with the light was awesome!

4x04

Fitzsimmons moving in together, count me in.

I see where Daisy is coming from, but not awesome that she’s using her friends and then leaving.

Come on Daisy! Come home.

Heylo? Hahahahaha

Radcliffe, I don’t think telling the android it’s okay to lie sometimes is a good idea.

What’s that face she’s giving? Oh shit, is she feeling things? Is she feeling things for Fitz. That’s not good.

I don’t trust James. *moments later* Called it.

Yes, Mack, two fire dudes just fell into fireworks.

Jemma for sure knows she’s an android.

“I prefer a classical beauty myself.” Awww, Fitz.

4x05

Oh, Fitz, a high five will not fix her being mad at you. Trust me.

“I’m sure they have it under control.” *cuts to chaos* Okay, that’s the best transition of the whole show.

Robbie, please don’t go after that guy. Just keep going please. Dammit. Why can no one just follow instructions in Shield.

Way to go Jemma! But what happened with Mace?? What did he do?

May had a heart to heart with her and she’s still leaving? Is Daisy really going to leave after all of this? She can’t, right?

Robbies uncle is going to get sucked into that book. Yeah, look at his expression. That’s not good at all is it.

Well that senator sucks.

4x06

*Mace mad at Coulson* Daaaang

Fitz is so smart. He would be a millionaire if he was an inventor or something. But he just wants to help people.

Wait, shit, Eli is bad!

*Fitz, Coulson, and Robbie disappear* Oh no!!!! Wait, that’s how the episode ends! Noooo!!

4x07

Shit, where are they.

Oh, so that’s where they are. That’s not good.

“I have to phone Simmons to tell her... I’m in another dimension.” Bwhahahahaha oh no.

That’s not Mack. Holy shit!

“Oh Mack’s the ghost rider no big deal. But you can’t hear us.” Oh my god, these lines are amazing.

The dialogue this episode is fantastic.

No!!!!! Don’t give the darkhold to Radcliffe. He’s already so morally grey!!!

Fitz is going to hit Mace

Aww, Fitzsimmons

There’s some flirtation with Phil and Melinda going on.

Have we seen who’s in that photo Mack is looking at? Hope?

Oh hey Robbie, how was hell.

Ummm, is Aida building a brain? Is she corrupted. Yep. She’s corrupted. We’ve got a corrupted android. Great.

4x08

Coulson’s comedic timing is everything.

Oof, Robbie is not having a good time.

“Oh yeah, Fitz solved that” Of course he did. He’s Fitz.

*Badass Fitzsimmons duo scene* They truly are a dynamic duo aren’t they. That shot was awesome!

*Daisy looking at Robbie’s car* well, you’ve got a sweet car.

*Mackelena finally kiss* gasps. There it is!

*Aida kills Nathanson* Oh dears.

*Reveal that May is an LMD* Wait wait wait. Holy shit. Oh shit. Damn.

4x09

Aida’s so sweet to May. And she sweetly killed Nathanson like it was nothing. Not creepy at all.

Once again Mack’s lines are amazing.

Yeah, don’t attack the android guys. Not a good idea.

“Why would you want to hurt me Leopold.” Aaaah haaaa, umm. No.

“Well, Simmons has only been kidnapped twice on this planet.” Hahahahahahaha that’s hilarious.

Smart people are stupid. That’s amazing.

*Aida freezes may* AAAH, she doesn’t even know she’s a robot!

*Radcliffe reveal* O. M. G. He’s corrupted. He played them. Asshole. Dammit he read it for just a second! No!

This is a good part of the show! I’m really enjoying this.

4x10

What the heck’s in that brief case?

And Radcliffe is now super creepy.

Poor Fitz, he doesn’t know his friend totally betrayed him.

“I did this to protect you.” Awww, Fitz. I mean, let’s not make robots, but that’s still really sweet. He just wanted to protect Simmons and everyone.

*May wakes up* Jesus, god May. She’s a badass. Imagine waking up like that! God! That’s terrifying.

“I can’t help feeling like somethings off.” Yeah, May, you aren’t real.

Mace isn’t an inhuman! Oh damn.

*Fitz analyzing Aida’s head* Uh oh Fitz.

“Is it weird that I found that attractive?” Hahahahahahahaha. Fantastic.

*Coulson back in charge* hell yeah!

*May finds out she’s an LMD* Aaaaaaah! Well, that’s an existential crisis.

4x11

Does Radcliffe have more of them? Because he just happened to have May.

*May waking up over and over again* Feels like I’m watching The Good Place.

*Aida breaks a glass* That’s concerning that a robot would make a mistake like that.

*Hope reveal* Oh that’s awful! Poor Mack.

Whose the other LMD?

*Radcliffe LMD reveal* Ohhhh noooo. Poor Fitz.

4x12

Hey! I was wondering where the lanyard guys were!

“You’re going all Gollumy again” bwhahahahaha that’s amazing

“I’ve lost too much already, I’m not losing you.” Awww, Phil.

*Robo Radcliffe talks about Fitz’s past* Oh my gosh, that explains so much. Oh Fitz! Screw Fitz’s dad.

How many Koenigs are there?

Awww, baby Fitz!—Maggie

I bet that’s his real mom too!—Steve

Fitz and Simmons are cute!

*Philinda kiss* Noooo! She’s a robot!

“Sorry, you weren’t meant to last” Radcliffe you ass. You evil ass.

4x13

*Agnes reveal* Eeeek, creepy. That’s who she’s based on!

Wait, is she really Australian? Damn, she does a great American accent.

Mace really got the short end of the stick in a lot of this didn’t he.

*Shockley gets turned into an inhuman* Oooh shit.

Did they just put Shockley on the plane. The dude that blows up? Well, damn.

*Fitzsimmons realize Shockley is the bomb* Way to go dynamic duo. Now gooooo! Oh, they’re going. Simmons pushing Fitz is amazing.

Aaaaaah! Fitz! Fitz and Mace!

*Fitzsimmons hug* Awww. I know I’ve said it before but they’re cute.

Noooo! Mace! Shit they kidnapped Mace!

*Aida takes put on Agnes’s necklace* Ewwwww, creepy. Creepy creepy creepy! Aaah.

4x14

*The superior walking* He must have this ‘I’m so cool face’ on at all times.

Aww, is Radcliffe in there to be with Agnes. That’s so sad.

*Flashback with Phil and May* Aww, May is all playful. It’s before the sad times.

*Mace chained* that’s not great for your circulation.

They’re going to kill Mace. No, don’t kill Mace.

“Morales, you’re with me.” Uh oh, Morales. More redshirts with names making me nervous.

“You’ve enhanced yourself with alien technology.” Actually Fitz built his hand.

“Cool origin story, bro.” Okay, that’s incredible.

“Concern only slightly lessened.” Davis is just like ‘thanks dude.’ Fantastic.

Mack doesn’t need super powers to be a badass.

*LMD reveal* Holy shit. Holy shiiiit. They switched out all four of them??? All four??? Holy shiiiit. Fitzsimmons are all alone. Aaaahaaa.

“Even filth has a purpose.” Ewwww, and she’s leaning over him like that. So creeeeppyyy. Eewwww.

“He’s a shrink.” Oh awwww. It’s Andrew. She falls in love with him.

Well I guess Phil and Melinda’s robots can be together. Kind of weird but okay.

Oh my god, this is stressing me out!!!

‘Even filth has a purpose.” Gaaah, ewww. I’m still thinking about it.

So is Radcliffe even in control anymore? Or is he too preoccupied with the framework to care. Like, is Aida just doing whatever the heck she wants now because that’s unsettling.

4x15

Where are all of them? Oh they’re in the framework. Uh oh.

Ewwww, Aida is evil! He’s (Ivanov) alive and she’s cutting into him.

Aaah, they’ve got them surrounded. It’s so creepy.

This is some body snatchers shit.

*fitzsimmons LMD scene* *Steve biting his nails with wide eyes* oh my god that was awful.

*Steve rewinds to rewatch the LMD scene* they’re so good. And it hurt so much to see Fitz go so cold. Owwww. Because it was him and how he would act and then it just shuts off. Ugh, they’re so good.

*Jemma stabbing Fitz scene* Oh he’s thought about getting married. Oh my god, that’s so awful. So disturbing. That hurts. They’re so talented.

*Daisy LMDs* Ohhhh that’s so disturbing. This is all so disturbing. Oh my gosh.

*Daisy and Jemma scene* Awwww, they found the only other person to trust. That’s so sweet. Gosh, that was also a brilliantly acted scene.

They’re all such good actors. All of them.

God, this is all so disturbing.

*Aida kills Radcliffe* oh shit. Aaaaah. That’s so creepy.

“Because you and Fitz belong together.” Thats the truth.

“Their poor base” -Maggie

“And they just retiled the bathrooms.” -Steve

Ooh, quake jump, that’s so cool.

*Slow motion quake* That’s sooo badasssss!

*Davis flying the Zephyr* Aah, Davis. Careful. He just started training.

*LMD May blows up the base.* oooh ho. Damn.

“Lincoln?” Oh noooo. That’s awful.

*Ward reveal* Whaaaaat?

*Coulson reveal* Whaaaaaat?

*Mack reveal* oh nooo, he’s got his daughter.

*Fitz reveal* Whaaaaaat? But, damn.

*Jemma reveal* Whaaaaaaaaat? She’s in a grave? Who’s in the car with Fitz?

*May reveal* is she an avenger? *Hydra logo appears* Waaaaait. Whaaaaaaaaat?

What the hell is going on. What the hell? What is this place. Are they all evil? Some of them evil? Mack isn’t evil right?

*Ivanov’s head* Ewwww creepy.

Whaaaat the helllll. As Fitz would say *does Fitz impression* what the hell?

Dammit why do I have to put the kids to bed!! I want to watch the next episode!! Gosh dang it.

That’s disturbing count: around 15

4x16

“Skye?” Skye??? Skye!!!

*Logo* ooooh, agents of hydra

“You’re on another planet this morning.” Yeah, she is. No shit Ward.

*Daisy looks up Lincoln* Awwww. Owwwww.

*Jemma jumps from the grave.* Lucky she was in a shallow grave.

They’re having a bad week.

Vijay isn’t real. He’s at the bottom of the ocean.

*Ward punches Vijay* wait, did he want him to stop talking? Hmmm.

*Coulson class scene* Aaaahhaa that’s not awful at all.

*May Bahrain reveal* oh shit, it changed that much! Shit.

“We’ve got him doctor” Radcliffe? *Fitz reveal* Ooooh nooo! Noooo! Shit, noooo! Jemma died and he went all dark. Nooooo.

“It’s a magical place.” Oh damn!

“My father used to say...” Shit, does Fitz have his dad’s influence?????

*Ward double agent reveal* Ooooooh! Shiiit. That’s so interesting!!

“This isn’t the framework this is hell” Jemma’s so pissed.

“Drones, Dwarves. Whatever.” Awww, Jemma’s heart just broke right there.

Are they stuck in the framework! Well shit!

*Fitz and Aida kiss* Ewwww. I mean it makes sense in this world because of course she’s using Fitz but ewww.

She replaced Jemma with herself. That’s not creepy at all.

“Daisy?” Aaaah! He remembers!

This place is messed up! Interesting, but messed up!

4x17

“I make my own soap now.” Bwhahahahahaha. That’s amazing.

Aww, Mack has his daughter. And she’s adorable. Oh no!

Ophelia? Oooh, she’s got her own name.

“I’d cross the universe for you.” Ewwww! Noooo. He literally crossed the universe for Jemma.

*Fitz and Aida make out* *Maggie screams and Steve shivers* But why is Fitz so hot in the framework though—Maggie *Steve nods*

“The soap made me do it.” Bwhahahahaha

*Mace reveal* Aaaaah! Mace! He’s all gruff now and an inhuman! He got everything that he ever wanted.

“And we’ll make our society great again.” Ewwwwwwwhewe!

This is so interesting! I’m really liking it!

*Mack and hope get taken by Hydra* that’s so awful! That is so disturbing!

Coulson is so nerdy, I love it.

“You’re Daisy Johnson. We’re agents of shield.” Mack remembers.

*Revealed that Mack doesn’t remember* No! Shit.

*Fitz kills Agnes* *sharp intake of breath, Steve stays silent for a very long time.*

*Mack joins Shield* Good job Mack.

“How do you feel?”-Maggie.

Steve quietly: “sick.”

4x18

I love how Mace is all scruffy and his suits all scratched.

Aaah, evil Fitz makes me sad.

*Jemma seeing Mack and Hope* Yeah, it’s an oh shit moment.

“Tell your old man all about it.” *Steve gasps* Oh no.

“I don’t know the kind of man I’d be without you father.” “That’s why I’m here.” Yep, to brainwash him.

TRIP!

*Brainwash room* Oh no! It’s the other kid too! No!

MACE! Noooo! Why would Aida do that. She’s so evil.

That’s so messed up.

*May used Terrigen on Daisy* Yes. Good job May. And hopefully it’ll heal her in the process.

4x19

Ha, Bakshi has a tv show.

Aww, mace is dead. He was a good man.

*Daisy quakes Aida out a window* *Steve laughs* That took her by surprise didn’t it.

“It’s like sipping poison...” Mmm, Fox News.

“You’re the new head of hydra” Yikes.

*Ward throws remote* Umm, you guys have limited remotes!

*Steve pauses show* I don’t like any of this. It’s interesting but I hurt inside. It hurts that Fitz is evil. Mace is dead. Agnes is dead. Radcliffe is in prison. May was evil. I’m sad.

Aww, Coulson all of a sudden became that paternal leader.

Wait, so she totally used Fitz in like every way. What a jerk.

Trips the best.

Sorry Ward. She wants to feel bad for you but she can’t.

So much Scottishness this season. I love it.

*Radcliffe yells at Alistar* yep, because you’re a worthless asshole ya jerk. Oof, he just throat punched Radcliffe.

Aww, Coulson is coming into his own.

“When this is over-“ Do I get Skye! “Do I get my Skye back?” Called it!

I liked that scene with Grant. It was the redemption that the other Ward didn’t deserve but this one did. It was nice. Also really well acted.

“Hydra giving alternative facts.” Ooooh, they’re calling them out. They are so not fans of Trump and it’s amazing.

*Coulson on the news* This is Shield’s please vote! Please vote.

That was amazing.

4x20

Yeah, I hate all of this.

This all hurts.

*Fitz talks to Radcliffe* Come on Radcliffe, please don’t betray us. Please.

*Jemma kills Alistair* Well, that’s not going to help us.

“I’m sure everything is fine.” It is not. Simmons killed Fitz’s dad.

I hate this. It’s fascinating and I hate it. She’s just made him mad. God, no.

*Trip saying goodbye* Awww, this hurts. He’s goneeee in our world. Whyyyyy.

Is Aida trying to build her spine *body being built on the other side* Ohhh. Damn.

*Coulson gets shot* SHIT

*Coulson wakes up* You’re going to have to fight a killer robot, Phil.

*May wakes up* Awww she did it! She followed him!!

*Radcliffe redeems himself* Yes! Radcliffe! Yes! Thank you!

*Fitz falls through* Thank God!

Thank you Radcliffe.

*Mack not coming with* Maggie, I really don’t like this.

Oh gosh, Fitz is so freaked out. They’re all so freaked out. Aaah, Aida!

*Aida and Fitz teleport* Well that was unexpected.

I feel really ill. Like, this hurts a lot. I hurt a lot.

It’s like The Red Wedding but drawn out over 4 episodes and I hurt.

4x21

Before the episode: I came into the framework so optimistic and it crushed me. Like I thought May was an avenger and then it was like hahaha pain.

Oh yeah! And then she teleported with Fitz. JERK!

Fitz really got screwed by the framework didn’t he.

*Coulson kills Robo Ivanov with a shield* WOAHHH!!! That was amazing! ...and disturbing.

*Coulson recounts what happened with Robbie Reyes* BWHAHAHAHAHA. It sounds so ridiculous when you recount it but it’s so amazing watching it.

Will she stop teleporting Fitz! He already feels sick!

Yeaaaah, giving Fitz his abuser back and replacing the woman he loves with yourself is not what would make him happy Aida!

“If he wanted to kill us he could just flood the place. Why is he stalling.” TO FLOOD THE PLACE, PHIL!

“I drank the bottle of Haig” “you piece of—“ *Steve can’t stop laughing*

*Mack almost drowning* Oh shit. Oh shit. Oh shit. OH SHIT.

*Fitz and Aida rescuing mack* THANK GOD.

*Jemma shoots Aida* well, yeah.

*Jemma shoots Fitz* Love ya Fitz, sorry man.

“What do we do with Fitz?” Talk to him!!

“I’m just like Ward.” Oh ho, that hurts.

“There’s only room in my heart for her.” YES! Oh shit, Aida’s not happy.

OH SHIT!

NO DAVIS! DAVIS!

*Toddler starts crying IRL over a toy* Now imagine if we gave her powers.That’s what’s happening with Aida.

*Fitzsimmons pod scene* oww

*Yoyo plugs herself into the framwork* This is a mess.

*Aida throws bottle in anger* His vodka!

*Aida and Ivanov scene* Aaah! Inhuman robot sex. Oh. Nope. Murder.

*Robbie comes back* Welcome back buddy! SHIELD shit has hit the fan.

4x22

“How do we kill Aida?” Hell chains? I’m thinking hell chains.

*Robbie waiting for Shield* Hello, back from another dimension? No way, us too!

Well Radcliffe is screwed if the framework is falling apart.

“I’ll talk to him. He’ll remember me.” No he won’t Elena. Wish he would though.

*Robo!Daisy shoots Talbot* *Steve sits with his mouth open* NO!! I mean, he could be annoying but he was a good man! And he’s been around since season 1!

“There’s a pulse.” How? Yay! But how?

“Once you say you can’t stop me. Well—“ it’s like when you say you feel safe on Survivor and then get voted off the island.

*Daisy & Robbie team up* Boom bitches!! That was super cool!

Mack’s not going to leave until Hope de-materializes. And that sucks ass.

“Robot May was much more supportive.” HA! That’s amazing.

EVERYTHING’S A MESS AND EVERYONE IS HURT AND DIE AND PAIN AND OWW AND THINGS.

Maggie: “What?”

Steve: “You heard me.”

*Aida kills LMD!Jemma* WHAT! What the hell? I feel so sick. Oh thank god she’s an LMD! But I feel ill.

Eeeewwwww the kiss Aida gave Fitz on the cheek is so disturbing.

*Jemma shoots Aida* YES! AWESOME!

*Coulson ghost rider reveal* HOLY SHIT THAT’S AMAZING! I FEEL SO MUCH BETTER!

*Aida dies* Well that was awesome and terrible and poor everyone.

They really do a great job of making you feel sick don’t they.

*Mack and Hope scene*

Maggie: “you okay?”

Steve: *wipes away tear* no.

Wait, is there more to Coulson’s deal with the Ghost Rider?

“Gave me a glimpse of the life I could have here.” Oooh! Mack and Elena! She did almost die for him. They’re in love.

*Robbie having to leave* He and Daisy couldn’t like kiss before he left? No? Fine.

*Daisy speech to Fitz* someone hug him, please!

*Diner scene* Whaaaat?

We’re in space next season!!?? Whooo!!

They’re all so messed up after all of this. I feel messed up after all of this.

#steve reacts to aos #personal nonsense #agents of shield #season 4

35 notes · View notes