You Scare Me, Professor: Chapter 29

Summary: The reader is taking graduate classes at a local university in the wooded upstate New York. She is drawn to her professor, Dr. Joel Miller, though she is also inherently aware that he has something dark about him that she can't quite put her finger on. As the reader's attraction grows deeper, she has to decide whether to endure the danger or run away as fast as possible.

Pairing: Professor Joel Miller x f!reader

Tori and I met up on my lunch break the following afternoon. I filled her in about the mishap with James the night before and she visibly cringed.

“Ouch.” She made a face. “That was a bold way to shoot his shot.”

“I felt so bad,” I admitted, “I still feel bad.” I twirled a French fry in ketchup and popped it into my mouth.

“Did you tell Joel?”

I nodded. “The night before I had gotten a card that was left on my car with no name. I thought it was this creepy guy Trevor from class.”

“Who’s creepy Trevor?”

“He's just this brown noser type of guy. I saw him lurking behind the building one night when I left and then he, like, popped out of the library stacks at me out of the blue.”

“Red flag, red flag.” Tori made invisible check marks in the air with her finger. “What if he's the lady killer?” That's what the papers and news outlets had branded the person responsible for the two dead women.

“Lately, I think everyone is the lady killer.” I huffed a laugh and shook my head. I changed the subject. “Are you and Derek doing anything for Valentine's Day tonight?”

“We’re going to see an early movie and then going out for cocktails and some apps.”

“Sounds fun.”

“Where’s Mr. Gold Coins taking you?” She asked with a laugh as she forked a bite of chicken from her salad, “Paris?”

I laughed. “We’re going to a place called Lake Kora.”

“Where's that?”

I shrugged and reached for the second half of my turkey wrap and took a hearty bite.

“You didn't Google it?”

I shook my head and continued to chew.

“Do I have to teach you everything?” Tori eyed me and began typing away on her phone. “How do you spell it?”

“L-a-k-e,” I began, smirking at her as she flicked my hand.

“Smartass, I know how to spell ‘lake'. What about the second part?”

“K-o-r-a.”

Tori eyed her tiny screen and began flicking her finger until she seemed satisfied. “Hmm..”

“What?” I arched my neck and she turned her phone part way.

“Looks nice.” She scrolled through photos. “Is he going to put, like, rose petals all over the bed? Feed you chocolate covered strawberries?”

I nearly spit the bite of my sandwich out and the two of us began laughing, drawing looks from other customers in the little sandwich shop.

“Sorry,” Tori whispered with a hand up, still chuckling as she took a sip of her iced tea to compose herself.

“Maybe we can double date some time soon,” I suggested.

“I gotta get a feel for this guy,” she nodded in agreement and poked around through her lettuce in search of a crouton. “What's going on next weekend?”

“His sister is getting married. We’re going to Vermont for the long weekend.”

Tori raised her eyebrows. “Wow.”

I nodded. “I was nervous to go but I met her recently and we hit it off, so..” I shrugged.

My friend pointed her fork in my direction. “If this guy ends up breaking your heart, I'll break his neck.” Tori paused, “Well, I’ll get someone to do it because I probably wouldn't be able to.”

I have a closed-mouth smile. “I hope this is all what it seems; because I'm totally caught up.”

“I know you are.” She nodded, “I've never seen you like this.”

“I know.” I ate another French fry and sipped on my Diet Dr. Pepper. “It's a little scary.”

Tori gave a genuine smile. “I guess life should be about taking chances.. and following your heart.” She raised her styrofoam cup, “To the next step?”

I tapped my cup against hers. “To the next step.”

The ride to ‘up-upstate’ with Dr. Miller late that afternoon had me excited for the weekend ahead. We took the truck, loaded up with snacks and even stopped at a little hockey store to purchase two pairs of ice skates. I couldn’t wait to go ice skating. It had been so long since I’d been but I was sure I’d pick it up again - like second nature.

“Want a coffee?” Dr. Miller motioned to a little shop beside the hockey store, “Or hot chocolate?” He grinned and took my hand when I nodded. We wandered into the shop and the aroma of freshly ground coffee beans hit me like a wave.

My eyes scanned a chalkboard with an endless array of choices. There were your typical French Vanilla flavors and Hazelnuts. And then the list trickled down to pistachio, white chocolate almond, blueberry and peppermint mocha.

“I’ll do a medium black coffee with a shot of espresso,” Dr. Miller ordered. “And a package of the chocolate covered espresso beans.”

When I spotted a banana mocha chocolate espresso, I was sold. Half hot chocolate, half coffee with the sweetness of the banana. Sign me up.

Dr. Miller smiled at me and gently squeezed the back of my neck as I ordered. I leaned into him and our hands found one another’s again after getting our orders and walking out.

“I can’t wait to get up there,” I told him when we got back in the car. I sipped my drink after giving the entrance to the cup a gentle blow and then set it in the cup holder. When Dr. Miller reached for my hand again, I squeezed his. I loved how he had to touch me at all times - whether holding my hand, squeezing my neck, or resting a hand on my knee as he drove.

He popped open the little bag of espresso beans and then reached over, prepared to place one in mouth.

I accepted, purposely sucking the pad of thumb for an extra second and Dr. Miller smiled at me. I almost giggled, thinking about Tori’s comment about the chocolate covered strawberries but I just grinned and looked out the window, relinking my hand with his.

Honestly, I didn't want the car ride to end. Until it did, and the A-frame lake house we would be staying in came into view.

Okay, I'm ready for the car ride to end.

The frozen lake stretched out, what looked like, for miles as he pulled down the long, rocky driveway.

Dr. Miller pulled the truck up beside the house and I got a glimpse of a hot tub on the front deck. He turned to glance at me and I couldn't help but smile.

“Come on.” He nodded his head toward the cabin and opened his door.

I eagerly trailed him up to the rental property. Neither of us bothered to grab our belongings yet. The sting of the cold weather felt refreshing on my cheeks on the short walk to the front door.

Dr. Miller punched a code into a little black box beside the door and a silver key popped out as the front of it opened.

“Do you own this house, too?” I had to ask, but he smiled and shook his head.

“I know as much about it as you do.” He slipped the key into the lock and opened the door, pulling me inside by the hand as he flipped on the main lights. It was like something from Pinterest or “hashtag cabin” on any number of social media outlets.

An oversized television sat above a stone fireplace to the right. A small collection of couches and chairs faced it, only split up by a shag throw rug. Above it hung a giant rustic chandelier. Overlooking the living room area was a loft that was accessible by a winding staircase and beneath the loft, straight ahead, was a cozy, modern kitchen with low ceilings.

“What do you think?” Dr. Miller put his hands on my shoulders from behind, and I reached up and placed one hand over his.

“I think we should stay here for a week.”

“Or two,” he added.

“Or two.” I nodded in agreement and looked over my shoulder at him. “Thank you. This is amazing.. again.”

“Let's get our bags.”

I followed him back to the car and he carried as much as he could, leaving me with just the ice skates that I set down on the couch in the living room area. We unloaded the little bit of food we’d brought up for the short stay and then towed the suitcases up the windy stairs to the lofty bedroom.

“Feel like some dusk ice skating?” Dr. Miller asked, sitting down on the edge of the bed.

“Is it safe?”

“I've been checking the weather all week,” he explained, “It's been in the teens and twenties.” Dr. Miller nodded, “There were some people out there when we drove up. Should be frozen solid.”

“Well, then, I can't wait.” My hands fell down into his and I bent at the hip to kiss him firmly on the lips. When I slowly dropped to my knees in front of him, working at the buckle of his belt, Dr. Miller looked down at me with a half, closed-mouth grin.

He sighed and arched his hips so I could shove his pants down to his ankles before closing his eyes as he stood back up. “Alright,” he agreed with a second deep breath.

“Unless you want to get right out onto the ice..” I teased.

Dr. Miller opened his eyes again and looked down at me. “It'll still be there in five minutes.”

“Five?” My hand wrapped around him now and I took him partway into my mouth. I guessed longer.

He groaned and smiled with his eyes closed. “Maybe three.”

CLICK HERE FOR THE NEXT CHAPTER

@untamedheart81 @suttonspuds @cesspitoflove @michilandcof @grogusmum @morallyinept @akah565 @brittmb115 @magpiepills @poodlebae @gobaaby-blog-blog @mermaidgirl30 @mandijo17 @shotgun-shelby @itscatrodriguez-thepearl @macaroni676 @acciowolfstar1 @smolbeanzzz @sarcasm-theotherwhitemeat @bandluvr97

Yesterday when driving back from a ride and visit with the old mare, I suddenly had the thought "it's nice weather and gonna be for a few days, so maybe it's time to take a drive." Easy enough to do here, where it's possible to get out and see stuff but not go much more than forty-fifty miles.

Great minds think alike because that's what the husband suggested when I got up this morning. Now, being on the older side, that doesn't mean that we got out of here all that quickly--needed to pull things together before we headed out. But soon enough, we were off for a short cruise around the County. After the morning visit to grain the old mare, give her some attention, and provide entertainment for the horse herd, we were off. We headed out the Zumwalt hoping to get out there and see some critters.

Well, we saw some hawks. I took some pictures with my camera setting on artistic shots--like the one above of the Seven Devils.

And then we encountered THIS. (see second pic above).

I didn't take the pic from very close because as soon as we saw that first big drift and no tracks past it, we KNEW. Before I could jump out and take a pic, husband was backing the truck. So this is a very long range zoom shot. The drift in question looked to be about three feet high, and since we're a.) old and b.) the closest house was ten miles back on the road and c.) we've done our share of getting stuck and having to walk out and we're (see a).

So we turned around. On the other hand, on the way back, we spotted these big boys. (third pic)

They know it's not hunting season.

So we cruised around elsewhere. Spotted two big family groups of bald eagles, ranging from first years to full adults. But also spotted a small flock of pheasants--two roosters and three hens. Encouraging to see. I hear those roosters crowing all the time when I'm riding Mocha on the roads, so it was cool to see them in a group. For some reason, vehicles don't spook them as much as a horse and rider seems to. I've seen those roosters drop to the ground and sneak along at a pretty good clip.

It was a nice break to the day, and I got some good pix. Did some thinking about the new Martiniere serial that begins tomorrow over on Martiniere Stories, The Cost of Power. Also started thinking about a historical set in the Martiniere backstory--the origins of the Double R Ranch and the love story of Ben Ryder and Mollie Bennett. Might be a straight historical...or not. Hard to say. Probably will be just short works. But who knows? It seems to work for Yellowstone, and the Martiniere books, no matter which series (The Martiniere Legacy, The People of the Martiniere Legacy, Martiniere Multiverse) are basically near-future Yellowstone meets Succession meets Willa Cather meets Ivan Doig.

The other piece was considering just how to represent the somewhat different relationship between Gabriel and Philip Martiniere in that book. Power is the story where they end up collaborating against someone worse--but Gabe has to look really hard at himself and what he will and won't do in the name of power. Not sure what that's gonna look like, but I've decided that serials are where I let my pantser flag fly (as opposed to something I'm not serializing).

Anyway, it was a much-needed break, and a nice change from driving to Portland to do medical/family stuff.

a pinch of the jeekies | han jisung

𝙙𝙧𝙚𝙖𝙢 𝙩𝙮𝙥𝙚: 𝘥𝘳𝘢𝘣𝘣𝘭𝘦

𝙙𝙚𝙨𝙘𝙧𝙞𝙥𝙩𝙞𝙤𝙣: 𝘫𝘪𝘴𝘶𝘯𝘨 𝘵𝘩𝘰𝘶𝘨𝘩𝘵 𝘩𝘦 𝘩𝘢𝘥 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘤𝘶𝘵𝘦𝘴𝘵 𝘤𝘩𝘦𝘦𝘬𝘴 𝘪𝘯 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘸𝘰𝘳𝘭𝘥. 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘯 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘤𝘢𝘮𝘦 𝘪𝘯, 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘴𝘵𝘰𝘭𝘦 𝘣𝘰𝘵𝘩 𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘤𝘳𝘰𝘸𝘯 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘩𝘦𝘢𝘳𝘵 𝘪𝘯 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘱𝘳𝘰𝘤𝘦𝘴𝘴.

𝙬𝙤𝙧𝙙 𝙘𝙤𝙪𝙣𝙩: ~2.7k+

𝙧𝙚𝙦𝙪𝙚𝙨𝙩𝙚𝙙 𝙗𝙮: 𝘢 𝘭𝘰𝘷𝘦𝘭𝘺 𝘢𝘯𝘰𝘯

𝙖/𝙣: 𝘩𝘪 𝘯𝘰𝘯𝘯𝘪𝘦! 𝘪 𝘩𝘰𝘱𝘦 𝘺𝘰𝘶'𝘳𝘦 𝘥𝘰𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘸𝘦𝘭𝘭, 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘮𝘺 𝘢𝘱𝘰𝘭𝘰𝘨𝘪𝘦𝘴 𝘧𝘰𝘳 𝘨𝘦𝘵𝘵𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘵𝘰 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘢 𝘣𝘪𝘵 𝘭𝘢𝘵𝘦! 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘳𝘦'𝘴 𝘰𝘯𝘭𝘺 𝘢𝘣𝘰𝘶𝘵 𝘵𝘸𝘰 𝘪𝘯𝘴𝘵𝘢𝘯𝘤𝘦𝘴 𝘰𝘧 𝘤𝘩𝘦𝘦𝘬 𝘴𝘲𝘶𝘪𝘴𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘨𝘰𝘦𝘴 𝘰𝘯 𝘪𝘯 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘥𝘳𝘢𝘣𝘣𝘭𝘦, 𝘣𝘶𝘵 𝘪 𝘩𝘰𝘱𝘦 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘵'𝘴 𝘦𝘯𝘰𝘶𝘨𝘩! >.< 𝘱𝘭𝘦𝘢𝘴𝘦 𝘦𝘯𝘫𝘰𝘺!

Jisung liked to take pride in his cheeks. When he'd first entered elementary school, he despised them. Everyone had seemed to shed their baby fat very quickly, but his squishy cheeks never left. After a few years of struggling with his self image, he entered high school, confident and proud of how he looked. 

His cheeks were unmatched. No one would ever have cheeks that could even come close. 

At least, that was what he thought before he met you, his strict, grumpy tutor that his chemistry teacher had assigned to him in hopes of raising his abysmal grades. 

Jisung didn't like you at first. He'd known you from afar like most other people did; the top of the class, intellectually brilliant but aloof girl that didn't seem to care about anyone in the school. 

Jisung didn't like you when he first met you in person. Your tutoring sessions were hard, and he meant really hard. You never let him get away with a single thing, not one missing unit, not one problem where he forgot to show work, nothing ever passed your watchful eye. And as  much as he tried to resist, he found his grades improving at a rapid rate, which only encouraged his teacher to send him to you more. 

After a month or so, however, it sort of hit Jisung like a truck when he finally had the revelation that you weren't so bad. As Spartan as your teaching methods were, you never belittled him for asking a stupid question, you wouldn't laugh if he asked you to slow down, and all in all, you were genuinely quite considerate of his feelings while still managing to get the results out of him. The first time he saw you genuinely smile was when he handed you his first B+, where you looked him in the eye and told him that you were proud of his improvement. 

Jisung couldn't even remember the last time he received a compliment like that from anyone. So after a while, he began to think that maybe you didn't show care towards anyone in particular because no one ever bothered to look past your reputation to see you for who you were. 

After another day of classes, he headed to the library, ready for another grueling hour of chemical reaction exercises. However, as he turned the corner into the little nook that you liked to study in, his steps faltered as he saw you slumped over the desk, your head resting on your arms as you slept soundly.

Now, Jisung probably shouldn't have gotten so excited to see you sleep, but he did. After all, he'd never seen you in such a relaxed state around him, and as he took a peek at your face, he physically had to stop himself from cooing out loud at how adorable you looked.

Woah, woah, woah. What?

The boy did a quick double take. When did he ever think his chemistry tutor was cute? Well, there was that one time he saw you scurrying down the hallway when you came to school late, there was that one time you sneezed on your way up to the whiteboard and looked a bit like a deer in headlights. There was also that one time he saw you giggle when you came across a quokka doodle in his notes and--oh my god that was basically 98% of his time with you and the other 2% was the time he was just staring at you from afar. 

Gulping nervously, he slid into the chair next to you and very carefully placed his book bag on the table. To be honest, he was waiting for you to wake up on your own; with a brother named Changbin who was a literal demon if you even so much as nudged him while he was asleep, Jisung was well aware of the dangers of waking people up from naps. He wasn’t sure what type of riser you were, and he wasn’t going to find out.

But as the minutes ticked on and crept into your normal tutoring time, you still didn’t wake and Jisung just sat beside you, picking imaginary petals in his head to decide whether or not he should give your shoulder a light nudge. He wanted to, because he knew you’d probably get upset at him if you woke up later to find that the two of you had wasted precious time, but on the other hand, you did look quite exhausted, even more so than usual. The bags under your eyes seemed slightly more defined, and this nap looked like the first moment of decent sleep you’ve gotten in days.

Eventually, Jisung decided not to wake you. If you got angry, then he’d just promise to study on his own when he got back home. He could put off playing games with Felix for one night if it meant that you got some rest. When you made an expression of discomfort, he even shrugged off his bomber jacket, rolling it into a pillow before gently maneuvering it to replace the book you were sleeping on.

With nothing else to do, Jisung found himself spending much of that time on his phone, but he couldn’t help but take some of the other time to gaze at you. Now that you weren’t wacking him with a rolled up test that he failed or glaring at everyone, you actually looked quite innocent and peaceful. You looked even happy, and Jisung wondered what you were dreaming about.

But what really caught Jisung’s eye were your cheeks. With your face squished against your arm, your cheeks were puffed up adorably, and it took every ounce of self restraint for Jisung to not poke them at least once. They looked like little marshmallows, and as the minutes ticked on, Jisung found it harder and harder to control himself.

He even felt a little bit of jealousy curling in his gut. What moisturizer did you use? Why did your cheeks look softer than his?

“Oh, the two of you are still here!”

Jisung almost jumped out of his seat as the librarian peaked her head into the corner, “A-ah, yes!” He stumbled over his words nervously.

“Well, you better hurry out. I’m closing up in five,” she said before finishing up her rounds so she could leave for the day. Checking his phone, Jisung realized with a start that it was almost six in the evening, thirty minutes past when your normal tutoring session ended. He didn’t even notice.

He glanced over at you, who was still snoring away without a care in the world and his expression softened. Looks like he’d have to wake you up after all. He almost didn’t want to, but against his better judgement, he leaned towards you and gave your cheek a gentle little pinch, full of fondness that he didn’t even really understand yet.

“Y/N,” he murmured your name as softly as possible, his smiling widening as you let out a soft groan in response. Wow, your cheeks were fluffier than anything he’d ever touched before.

“What…?” you mumbled, eyes fluttering open as you sat up, gripping at Jisung’s jacket in confusion.

He smiled, “Rise and shine, sleepyhead,” he ducked under your sleepy attempt to flick his forehead.

“What time is it?”

“Almost six,” Jisung said, helping you pack your book bag as you regained your bearings. As you finally managed to process where you were, your eyes widened almost comically.

“It’s almost six.”

Jisung laughed, “Yes? That’s what I just said?”

You shoved his jacket back at his chest, cheeks unnaturally hot, “Why didn’t you wake me up?!” Gosh, you were more than embarrassed. It was one thing to miss a tutoring session, it was another to sleep through it with your student literally right next to you. Especially when the student was Han Jisung.

He took his jacket back, still amused by how flustered you looked. In all the time he’d spent with you, he’d never seen you look so frazzled before, “I wanted to wake you, but you looked so tired!” Jisung explained, deciding to take the moment to try and reach out to you once more, “Is everything alright? You looked really drained. I noticed in class, too.” 

You tensed up, not expecting Jisung to be so observant. No, scratch that, you knew Jisung was always observant, but you never thought that applied to you. 

“I just have a little more on my plate now,” you explained the best you could without actually explaining. 

Jisung felt a pang of disappointment. It was the blank wall to the face again, like he always got when he tried to get to know you better. Two steps forward, four steps back.

“But, regardless, you should've woken me up,” you continued, huffing at him as you reached into your bag to pull out your planner, “It's my fault for oversleeping, so let me know what time you'd like to reschedule--”

“Woah, woah,” Jisung waved his hands frantically, shaking his head, “Didn't you just say you have more on your plate now? You don't need to reschedule.”

You gave him an inquisitive stare and he physically had to hold back a gulp, “Are you just trying to get out of tutoring?” You asked, but he noticed that your voice didn't hold any edge to it, another red flag that you were probably a lot more exhausted than you let on.

“I'm not, I promise,” he held his arms up in surrender, “I'll go over the material and do the assignment myself. You can check it over next week!” 

A moment of silence passed before you relented, placing the planner back in your bag with a sigh, “Okay, but the three mistake rule still stands. Got it?”

Jisung smiled, “Got it,” he said, grabbing his bag and standing up, “I won't let you down after all the help you've given me.” 

“You really think this is helpful?” The surprise in your words spilled out despite your best attempts to keep your mask of passivity. Fuck, it was always Jisung that made you like this. Any other person would tried to tear down your mental walls, only for you to build them up twice as high and twice as thick. But Jisung--Jisung just walked past them like they didn't even exist.

“Um, yeah? My grades literally went from C’s to B’s and A’s because of you!” Jisung exclaimed, practically offended for your sake at the mere thought of your question, “If that isn't helpful, then what is?” 

A dry chuckle left your lips as the two of you walked out of the library, “That isn't what I meant. Normally, people would say that I'm a bit...harsh? Overbearing? Un-fun?” 

Jisung bit his lip, his eyes rounding with a mix of realization and guilt as he saw the expression on your face. You probably didn't even notice it as you looked up into the sky, but he could see it as clear as day. A bittersweetness that looked a bit like hurt, but it wasn't quite either. 

So you did know of what people said about you, and it did affect you. The guilt festered in his chest as Jisung came to the painful realization that he was part of that group of judging before knowing only a few weeks before. 

“Um!” Jisung blurted out rather clumsily, grabbing your attention as you turned to face him, “You're a good teacher. Y-yeah, sometimes you can be a bit strict, but people should know that you do it only because you want them to succeed!” 

A moment of awkward silence passed between the two of you, and Jisung was about to disappear into the ground when you let out a giggle, covering your mouth with the back of your hand and failing to hide your amusement. 

You laughed. You laughed because of him. You were smiling because of him. Jisung held your expression, your moment of happiness, close to his heart, and he wanted nothing more than to see it again. 

“Thank you, Jisung,” you said after your giggles died and you stood before him, a bit of distance still between the two of you even though it wasn't quite as tense or awkward as before, “That means a lot to me, really.” 

Jisung’s face lit up, and he nodded, “And I really mean what I said! I wouldn't have gotten so much better without you.” 

Your cheeks felt unusually warm in the chilly evening, and you realized that you should probably make your escape soon before you found yourself falling more and more for this boy who wore his heart on his sleeve. 

“Well, thank you again,” you said sincerely, clutching the strap of your book bag as you gave him a smile, already beginning to turn away, “I’m gonna head home, so I guess I’ll see you in class tomorrow.”

Jisung felt the joy in his heart stutter a bit at the way you turned to glance down the road you were about to take, and his mouth worked before his brain, “Wait! I could give you a ride!” He blurted out before wanting nothing more than to bonk himself in the head.

“Oh?” You turned back around to face him as you crossed your arms, “You drive?”

“Uh, I have a bike, which is still faster than walking,” Jisung supplied the follow up information rather unhelpfully, but it made you smile nonetheless, “And you live close to Seungmin’s family bakery, right? I live right around there, too.”

There wasn’t much about that offer that you could really refuse, and you found yourself not wanting to anyway. You were still pretty exhausted and you were already dreading the walk back home. 

And besides, a little extra time with Han Jisung never hurt anyone except for your poor heart, which was beginning to grow tired of fighting your obvious attraction for this boy. 

“Alright,” you said, shifting your bag strap higher up your shoulder as you gestured, “lead the way.” 

The ride was quite silent, but neither of you minded. If anything, you enjoyed the silence, and Jisung knew you enjoyed it, so he didn’t bother to pry or start conversation. With your hands resting on his shoulders for balance as you sat behind him on what was normally the basket rack, and with the sky loosing its pinkish tones and exchanging them for the dark blues and purples of night, everything felt strangely perfect and--dare you say it--romantic. 

When you finally told Jisung to stop in the front of a house just a couple buildings down from Seungmin’s bakery, the air between the two of you had shifted somehow. It wasn’t a big change; you weren’t suddenly head over heels in love with him and he wasn’t suddenly filled with the urge to kiss you like they do in shoujo mangas, but there was a comfortable and mutual sense of affection for one another that didn’t need any pushing or rushing from either side. The two of you just...knew it somehow. 

“Thanks for the ride,” you said, your voice soft as you swung your leg off and found yourself next to the bike, face to face with Jisung. 

“Don’t mention it,” he smiled, leaning against the handle of his bike in a way that made him look deviously adorable. You bit your lip, hesitating for a second before reaching up with your fingers and giving his soft cheeks a light squish.

Huh, they were even softer than you’d imagined they would be. 

Jisung’s eyes grew as wide as saucers, which snapped you out of your daze as you quickly pulled your hand away and cleared your throat awkwardly. 

“Don’t forget to go over today’s chapter when you get home,” you said, trying to mask your embarrassment and keep your voice steady as you gave him one last smile before rushing into your house, fumbling a bit with the keys when you pulled them out of your bag.

Jisung stood in front of your house for a moment longer, his eyes dazed with surprise as he reached up to rub his cheek. Fuck, if you mess around with him like this any more, he’d be head over heels in love with you before the semester even ended. 

And as Jisung biked back home, he didn’t even care that he actually lived in the opposite direction and he’d lied a bit in order to make sure you got back safe. Your smiles, your laughter, and your gentle retaliation for his earlier pinch of your cheek made it all worth it. 

Jisung thought he had the cutest cheeks in the world, but he was pretty satisfied with being second best now. 

Beautiful Pain (7)

Chapter Seven- Gone

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Enhanced! Reader

Summary: Post-Blip, you started to feel lost when most of the Avengers team are gone. Coping with your loss, you still find hope in the connection with your remaining friends. However, it is not easy as everyone is trying to figure their lives after the Blip.

Having a long history with Bucky ever since you both saved each other from Hydra, you were still glad you had Bucky after all this time. However, as you try to give Bucky space to find himself after being pardoned for his past, you start to wonder if you should ever cross the line of friendship before it’s too late.

That thought might have to be put on hold though, when you, Sam and Bucky find yourselves having to deal with threats that continue to rise in a post-Blip world.

Chapter synopsis: In your pursuit of Karli and her group, unexpected revelations come to light. Lines are now crossed and that there is no turning back.

Warnings: Violence. Angst. A bit of language. Maybe a tear-inducing moment?

Word count: 5k

Notes: In celebration of the last ep, today is a double release! 🥳 We are already at the 7th chapter of this series. It also has covered one of the most climactic episodes of the TFATWS series and wow, I can't believe we are here! 😱

I have yet to see the last episode but I have plans to do it tonight. I thought I could put it off until I finish writing for ep 5 but I couldn't wait. This would help me to plan the direction I want to come for the upcoming chapters. 😌 Hope y’all will stick to this series despite the show has ended. 😅

Please let me know what you think of the series so far! 🥰���🏼

The tag list is still open! Let me know if you want to join with a message or comment in the chapters!

Previous: Prologue | Chapter One | Chapter Two | Chapter Three | Chapter Four | Chapter Five | Chapter Six |

Next: Chapter Eight

-------------------------//---------------------------

With Zemo’s inside information, all of you were heading to Donya’s ceremony in hopes to find Karli. You weren’t sure what to do knowing that you had secured a possible chance with Dovich to talk to Karli.

Grabbing your blazer, you made the move to join your group when you were greeted by the sight of John and Lemar walking towards you all.

“Karli Morgenthau is too dangerous for you to pull this shit.” John thought it fit to lecture your group. You were walking beside Sam when you heard Bucky sarcastically questioning John on how he managed to locate your group.

All of your annoyance grew as John decided he doesn’t want to miss out on the action given his new status and hence, responsibility as- urgh you don’t even want to say call him that title in your head.

“Come on, man. You don’t think three Avengers can walk around Latvia without drawing too much attention?” Lemar responded in kind.

John in all his fear of missing out started to question why you all had broken Zemo out of prison. Bucky patronizingly mentioned that Zemo broke himself out technically but John grew more irritated at not being taken seriously.

John’s higher than thou self was drawing attention with his loud talk and Sam had to cut him off. Zemo explained that he knew of Karli’s location and indicated continuing on his tracks before being stopped by John.

Sam went on ahead to explain that Karli would most likely be at Donya’s memorial and interception would take place there. Lemar noted the risks of casualties give n that civilians would be present.

John seeming pleased with the information started talking of a plan to take Karli in by surprise. This plan of ambush didn’t sit well with Sam and he proposed to talk to her alone. John refused, saying he didn’t want the possibility of losing Karli again.

Sam countered back that it was the best timing to reason with her, as she was now feeling vulnerable with someone dear to her loss. John vehemently rebuffed Sam’s proposal and claimed that reasoning with Karli was not an option, given that she had bombed a building with people in it.

Lemar, who you observed to be more level-headed than John ever would be chimed in that Sam could be attacked without any backup.

“And if I go in hot and the ops go wrong, more people will die,” Sam stated firmly.

“Sam is right.” Everyone turned to you and you continued to speak. “Look-” You shook in disbelief as you were about to break the promise you had with Dovich but you knew the situation called for it.

“I met with one of Karli’s guys.” All of the men were stunned at your revelation and you could see the betrayal on Bucky’s face more so than the rest.

“When was this?” He spoke up first as he looked on at you in disappointment.

“When we were out fishing for information on Donya, I miraculously spotted him on the streets and followed him. We talked.”

“And you didn’t bring him in?!” John accused as if you had done something terribly wrong. Bucky turned to give John the stink eye before going back to you.

“Why would you keep this from us at all?” Bucky couldn’t believe that you would have kept this information from him of all of the people.

“I promised him, he was going to talk to Karli for me after the memorial. He was our best chance to persuade Karli rather than go in by ourselves. We might not even have a shot.” You defended your actions.

“And how was he so agreeable to your request?” Bucky asked disdainfully. You didn’t like his judgmental stare at you, like as if he couldn’t believe you managed this feat.

“I saved him before back when we all fought the Flag Smashers on the truck. I convinced him with sincerity, happy?” You snapped back at the brooding super-soldier. Sam witnessing the once again tense exchange between the two of you intervened and spoke.

“That’s good, Y/N. Well done.”

“He said that he would only have me speak to Karli but I think you should do it, Sam. I can do talk to him again once he contacts me. You are the best one of us to do it.” You knew of Sam’s experiencing with counselling soldiers dealing with trauma and knew that he would do a better job to talk to Karli.

Sam was encouraged at your support for him and pulled you into a side hug which you returned gladly to him too. Bucky grew irritated at how your relationship with him was continuing to sour and began to feel disheartened. John being the thorn in your side still did not relent in his opinion.

“Are you gonna let your partner walk into a room with a super-soldier alone?” John continued to harp on the matter.

“He dealt with worse and he’s not my partner.” Bucky curtly answered.

“I trust Sam, he’s more capable than you think.” You chimed in. Bucky gave you a brief warm look as the two of you had put your differences aside for a moment to agree on Sam’s competency.

When Lemar asked John to give this plan a chance, you could see the latter wavering on his stance. It seemed his soft spot for his partner and friend worked. The men still thought it was better to go for the memorial straight as they were not sure if Dovich could hold up his end of the promise.

You showed hesitation but decided to give in, knowing that you were outnumbered. Zemo led the group to approach a little girl and you could see him giving some money to the girl in exchange for the revelation of Donya’s memorial.

You all were soon directed to an old building and the little girl pointed up to a stairway before going off. Sam gave you a nod before making his way first.

John took it upon himself to cuff Zemo before stopping Sam, informing him that he only had ten minutes with Karli. You had it with his bossy attitude and wanted to throw a punch in his face.

As the time passed in the room, it was silent. Everyone took a spot to wait but John was pacing up and down. Bucky positioned himself near the door while you took a spot opposite Lemar.

Your eyes glanced nervously to Bucky, suddenly feeling all weird and awkward. You never had this feeling in a long time. The only time you felt his way was when you had just started living with him as you two were on the run and in hiding.

The sudden comfort and ease you had with him seemed to vanish with your first fight as you would call it.

“Hey, uh-now it’s not really the time…” Your attention to Lemar who was now speaking at you directly. Giving a surprising look at his unexpected conversation starter, you listened intently.

“I really am a fan of yours.” Your mouth opened slightly in surprise at his revelation. Tilting your head to the side, you gave him a quizzical look.

“Just thought your powers are really cool. I was amazed to see them in action back in Germany.” You weren’t sure how to react but nodded shyly and thanked him. Bucky couldn’t believe what transgressed in front of him.

Peering over to see you with a bashful expression, he couldn’t help to grow irritated out of jealousy.

“Were you born with them?” Lemar inquired politely and you nodded in response. Lemar had another look of wonder before continuing to ask.

“That’s extraordinary.” You shrugged your shoulders as you didn’t know what to respond. Sure, you know your powers were to be envied but you didn’t think of yourself holier.

“It’s nothing to be envied. I find more respect for people who are able to do extraordinary things without such advantages.“ Your humility gained a deepened sense of admiration from Lemar. “Thank you for your service.” Throwing a smile in his way, yours grew wider as Lemar returned one your way.

Eyes looking over to John, you gave a slight brief nod before looking away. You also had to acknowledge his contributions but you didn’t like him as much so that was the best you could do.

Minutes passed again before John grew more impatient by the second.

“No no no, this is a bad idea.” He started whispering to himself as he shook his head fervently.

“It hasn’t been ten minutes, John. Just sit tight.” Bucky noted with a huff.

“Don’t patronize me.” You could see John getting fed up with Bucky. Walking towards the other end of the room from where Bucky was, John stood to look at the clock and you saw the determination in his eyes. “That’s it. I am going in.”

“Woah, back down mister. You’re being too rash.” Moving to the side to block his path, you held up a hand to stop him from moving.

“And you’re being too relaxed.” He seethed impatiently at your interception. As his hands laid on your shoulders to move you physically, Bucky immediately went to snatch his hand away.

You felt yourself being shifted backwards and towards Bucky before he took a step in front of you. Both men puffed up their chests in dominance and looked at each other with distaste.

“This is all really easy for you two, isn’t it?” John’s eyes moved to yours before landing back at Bucky. “All those serum and powers running through your veins…”

“Your partner needs backup in there. Are you really going to have Sam’s blood on your hands?” John enunciated each word of his last sentence strongly to pressure you.

In a matter of seconds, John looked at the opening Bucky gave when he came to protect you and went for it. He quickly made his way to where Sam and Karli were.

You saw the look of distraught and betrayal on Karli’s face before she lunged for John and knocked him and Sam over. She immediately made a run for it with Bucky hot on her trail. Helping Sam up, you two made your way to back Bucky up.

The big building was an unfamiliar maze and the three of you tried to find Karli’s location. Hearing the sounds of crashing and gunshots, you all tried your best to follow the sounds to the exact location.

When you arrived at the door, you opened it to see Zemo knocked out cold on the floor. John was already at the scene and Lemar just joined a few moments later. The little pieces of glass with unknown blue residues confirmed your suspicions on what they were.

Oh god.

-------------------------//---------------------------

“I deal with the power broker when the time comes,” Karli reassured the two men were worried about fighting two wars with both the power broker and Sam’s group.

“And I know a way we can deal with Sam without getting involved in a direct fight.” Karli intended. Nico and Dovich exchanged a brief look before Dovich asked how they were able to do so.

“We separate them. And then we kill Captain America.” Karli’s intentions didn’t sit well with Nico but he maintained a neutral expression. Dovich sat on the thought for a moment and remembered about you

“Hey look, Sam’s group is an odd mix but I don’t think they mean any harm. Except for Zemo, of course.”

With furrowed brows, Karli indicated for Dovich to explain himself. Dovich decided to speak about the earlier encounter he had with the Avenger.

“I talked with Y/N prior and she promised that she didn’t want any bloodshed.” Karli scoffed at her friend’s words and shook her head in disbelief. How was Dovich so trustful of you?

“That’s what Sam said too. But guess how it turned out.” She retorted with her own example to show how your group couldn’t be trusted.

“She’s not like that. I believe her, she can be trusted.” Dovich insisted. Karli and Nico were curious as to why was their friend was pushing for you.

“What’s gotten into you, Dovich? Why are you defending her?”

“Karli, she saved my life back in Germany. Her actions then spoke louder given she only met us for the first time.”

“She’s still loyal to her group. She’s loyal to the Avengers.” Karli continued to put down Dovich’s vouch for you. He then decided to change his tactics.

“I think she can be convinced to join our group. Imagine if she stood on our side, we would be unstoppable.” Karli looked up in interest as she considered the possibility of you fighting for their cause. Indeed, with your powers, the Flag Smashers would become a force to be reckoned with.

“That’s impossible.” Karli tried to reason with the fact that you were still with the enemy and you wouldn’t be turned so easily. She knew of your history and how you were loyal to a fault for Bucky Barnes. Would you so easily leave your friends to join them?

“She empathises with our cause. She said so herself.” Dovich added in finality, hoping that Karli could be convinced.

“Hmm, we’ll see about that.”

-------------------------//---------------------------

Your head was spinning from earlier events and you came back to the common room once you had a quick shut-eye upstairs. You could hear Bucky and Sam bantering about the same old topic on Steve’s shield.

You also heard Bucky’s comments about Walker and shook your head in disbelief at how inherently frustrating the man was. What could have been a successful peace talk with Karli was ruined by his brashness to display his authority.

The door burst open behind you and you looked over to see John coming in with Lemar, demanding for all of you to turn Zemo in. Sam took charge of the situation and put John in his place, stating he had been nothing but a thwart in your plans.

John being the arrogant pick he was tried to size up Sam, mocking him by saying he could put down the shield to make it fair for the both of them. You were fuming with the blatant disrespect that John was showing.

Before you could take another step, a familiar spear swooped in and lodged itself in the pillar near John. The familiar sounds of metal clanging let you know who was arriving and you saw familiar Dora Milajae members walking into the room.

Understanding the Wakandan words that were being spoken, you knew the Dora Milajae were here for Zemo.

John being the arrogant prick that he was, was proud to introduce himself as Captain America. An awkward silence ensued when they didn’t return a response. Sam tried to help John out by advising him that he should be careful to step on the Dora Milajae’s toes.

Ignoring Sam’s words, John went on to tell the Dora Milajae that they had no jurisdictions it had little effect when Ayo refuted his claims. Seeing John scoff before taking a step towards Ayo to place his hand on her shoulder, you immediately winced once Ayo swiftly knocked John down in three moves.

The scene in front of you unfolded quickly as John were quick to fight against the Dora Milajae and Lemar even stepped in to help his partner out. Seeing how the two men were hopelessly struggling with the warriors caused you to cringe in embarrassment.

“We should do something,” Sam said as he had the same sentiments as you.

“Looking strong, John.” Bucky commentated sarcastically with his arms crossed as if he was fine with how things were.

“Bucky….” Sam said in a nagging tone, as if Bucky was a child who did not want to do his chores. You looked over to give him a nod to say that Bucky should indeed step in before John really gets pummelled.

“Ayo, let’s talk about this”. Bucky stepped forward to intervene. Looking to the side, you saw one of the Dora aiming to give Lemar a blow before Sam stepped in. She managed to knock Sam down onto the couch and you knew it was your chance to step up.

You refused to use your powers with the Doras so you held your hands up to negotiate with them.

“Spare him, please.” You pleaded on Lemar’s behalf. The Dora withheld her weapon as she looked over you, recognising you from your Wakandan days. She left you

A sound of metal dropping caught your attention as you saw Bucky’s arm falling limply on the ground. His astonished expression accompanied by pain at Ayo’s disarm of his arm also brought you a shock.

In the midst of the chaos, you found that Zemo had disappeared. Ayo went to open the bathroom door and checked the room. She stated that Zemo was gone.

Ayo stated that their business was finished here and they would take their leave first. You helped Lemar up before walking over to Bucky who picked up his vibranium arm in disbelief.

“Did you know they could do that?” Sam asked and Bucky shook his head in response. You bit your lips as you weren’t sure what to say.

In an attempt to comfort him, you reached over to give his shoulder a squeeze. Bucky was glad that your previous enmity towards him seemed to be gone and your interactions seemed to be back to normal.

“They were not even super soldiers.” Hearing John’s dismay at his utter defeat, you almost felt bad for him. Sam gave him a once over as John stood up, acting he was fine before leaving with Lemar.

The three of you left couldn’t believe Zemo made his grand escape even with all of you in the room.

-------------------------//---------------------------

The three of you were making your way out in search of Zemo until Sam received a call from his sister. Apparently, Karli called Sarah as a strong message to Sam. Karli threatened to involve Sam’s nephews if Sam didn’t do as she said.

Your head shook in disbelief, you believed Karli to be different. To hear that she was pulling such a tactic changed your initial opinion of her. Sam received a message to meet her alone but you and Bucky wouldn’t let him go in alone.

Once the three of you suited up, you all made your way to the location. Entering the open plaza in the building, Sam called for Karli and you saw her head popped into view. You all made your way to her level.

You let Sam approached her while Bucky and you put yourselves at the side. Sam called her out for trying to involve his family but Karli replied that she would never harm them. Her eyes moved to where you and Bucky stood, noting aloud that Sam didn’t come alone as intended.

Karli reiterated that she never wanted to hurt Sam and that he was just a tool in the regimes she vowed to destroy. Killing Sam would be meaningless to her.

“I was gonna ask you to join me. And maybe Y/N back there. Dovich has spoken highly of you.” Seeing your eyes widened in surprise at the offer, Karli smirked before continuing.

“You could do better than them. You would be welcomed and appreciated within our circle. I know of your loss, your grief with the rest of your original team gone. You can find purpose with us.” You stepped forward as if her words were drawing you in.

Sam and Bucky were at a sudden loss at your movement. They didn’t think you would even process Karli’s proposal and were curious to know what you were about to do.

“Karli, I resonate with your cause.” Your words took your friends by surprise. Were you really going to switch sides?

“But I don’t approve of what you did back at the depot. I thought better of you.” You expressed your stance on the matter. Karli scoffed before giving her reply. “Don’t give me that. I don’t need your approval.”

“Shedding blood is never an option for me.” You stood your ground firmly.

“Fine, I admit my mistake. If you join us, I will make sure there would not be lives cost.” Karli tried to coat her words in favour of you.

She knew that she would do whatever was necessary for her to achieve her goals and even if it were to pretend to pander to your moral values, she was willing to give it a try if it meant she could have you switch sides.

Seeing your conflicted dilemma, Karli egged on. “Is it because of him?” She nodded back to Bucky. You looked over your shoulder to see him equally You looked at her with a perplexed look before she smirked once more.

“I read up about you. You came into his defence when he was accused of a crime he didn’t commit. You revealed your powers publicly and that got you thrown into the raft. Ever since he has been pardoned, you had been with him all this time.” You didn’t know where Karli was going with this but her next sentence finally made you understood.

“This only means one thing. You like him, don’t you? He’s the one holding you back.”

“No! What are you talking about?” You spoke through gritted teeth at how she chose to play this out. How could she expose you like this? Your ears burned with embarrassment at the revelation that stunned both Sam and Bucky.

What was Karli implying exactly? Bucky looked over to see you visibly shaking in anger and he was taken aback by how Karli’s words affected you.

“Even now, I see the way you are looking at him. At how angry you are now? You mad that your secret crush is out in the open?” You looked up to see Karli’s smug face and you controlled your energy from bursting through your hands.

“Stop your bullshit. Don’t act like you know me!”

“Please, I am letting you know that he is not worth it. You would do so much better for yourself if you join our cause.” Karli retorted and you hated how she acted like she knew what was best for you when she barely knew her.

Sam always had an inkling that there could be more from your relationship with Bucky but he kept silent on the matter out of respect. He knew that it was best to leave you figuring things out on your own.

He recalled how he had caught you and Bucky in an intimate moment back in the club at Madripoor and figured you two were more than it seemed on a friendship level.

Seeing Karli use such an approach to almost taunting you in the context of persuasion didn’t sit well with him. His inner big brother wanted to come out to defend you.

Meanwhile, Bucky was appalled to learn of everything from your exchange with Karli. Was it possible that you had liked him all this while?

When he talked to you about Madripoor earlier, he remembered your pained expression when he tried to void what happened between the two of you.

Was it because you were hurt by his denial? He must have sounded like the world’s biggest jerk. If you really liked him, he would imagine you being heartbroken from what he had said.

“He is worth everything.” Your very statement made Bucky looked back up in shock. No way would he ever thought you would like him in that way. He thought you were just being the kind-hearted and empathetic person that you always are to follow a guy like him.

Quick flashbacks came to him as he realized that you had always been by his side from breaking free of HYDRA to being on the run, following the Avengers civil war, his time in Wakanda, the fight with Thanos, Steve's leaving, his pardon after the Blip and up to now.

It dawned upon Bucky that he had taken you for granted. If you were gone right now, he could only imagine that he would possibly go the deep end.

“He is the most important person in my life and you don’t get to talk about him like that when you don’t even know him.” You asserted with renewed confidence. You figured while this situation wasn't ideal, it was the moment you had to tell your truth.

Looking back, you met Bucky with a small smile.

Bucky’s heart soared at what you had just said. To be regarded as your most important person was the thing that he never knew he needed.

You knew that your words inadvertently had answered the pressing question on Bucky’s mind. Karli knew she had failed to get to you after the answer and decided to lose her shot with you.

You hear Sam picking up something on his comms, stating that it was Walker. Karli was alerted and decided to make a move first. Bucky immediately jumped off as soon as he saw Karli doing the same.

You lifted yourself off and saw Sam knocking Karli over before he turned to Bucky, telling him that he would send him the location. You didn’t have time to say anything to Bucky, he only gave you a look of understanding before you both knew that there were more pressing matters at hand.

Sam nodded to you before you did the same and you followed him as he took off.

-------------------------//---------------------------

You sent a blast towards the glass ceiling before you and Sam landed in the building. A crash was heard next when you recognised Dovich to be the one that was crashing. You looked to see John walking into view and your mind scrambled to analyse what was going on.

Dovich went ahead to use a metal pipe against John, but John pushed back and even bent the pipe into half like a rubber hose.

“Oh shit,” Dovich uttered before John sent him flying to where you stood. As Dovich looked up at you, you eyed him to go and heard Sam speak up.

“What did you do?” John didn’t answer the question and informed that the Flag Smashers had Lemar. Growing a soft spot despite your brief interaction, your heart dropped when you realised that Lemar was in danger.

John went ahead first before Sam followed behind. You placed your hand on Sam’s arm to pause for a moment, looking at Sam anxiously.

“Sam, I think he took one of the serums.” He nodded grimly at your words, indicating that he shared the thought too.

The two of you followed John where you were all ambushed by a member of the Flag Smashers. All of you tried to fend yourselves and you soon see Bucky joining the scene.

You were met face to face with Dovich. You gave him a look that said you were reluctant but had no choice to fight him.

He took you on and you tried your best to avoid his quick moves. You shot multiple non-fatal blasts at him to knock him over. He was doing his best to keep up with the speed at which you were throwing your blasts.

In the next split second, you sent two direct blasts to his chest that knocked the wind out of his chest. The following moment, you heard a loud collision and you looked to see Lemar crashed against a stone pillar.

A loud gasp escaped your lips as you realised what had just happened. Lemar’s head fell slightly as you saw him lost consciousness. John immediately walked over to his partner and repeatedly tap him to wake him up.

You swallowed heavily as seconds passed and Lemar had no reaction. John called Lemar’s name over and over to no avail. You see John looking back his shoulder and directing his line of sight on you.

“Do something!” He cried out to you. You were at a loss for words as you didn’t know what he wanted you to do. You looked over to see Sam and Bucky equally stunned at what had occurred.

“I read your file. You brought someone back to life before!” You knew what John was referring to but you didn’t know if it could even work.

“I can’t, my powers don’t work like that-” Your powers came from your life force so you were able to transfer it to someone to regain theirs. However, you only did it once and it was because someone was dying of hypothermia. It was a different situation from Lemar’s.

“Please! I’m begging you! He’s everything to me!” John’s desperate plea touched you, knowing that he had said similar words to what you had said before about Bucky. You understood his plight and made quick steps to where he was.

Everyone looked upon the scene as you crouched down to your knees. You gave John a wary look before you brought your hands to Lemar who was lying in John’s arms.

Summoning your energy into your palms, you placed them on Lemar’s chest as if you were using a defibrillator. You pumped several sets of energy into Lemar while John patted him for a reaction.

When Lemar still showed no signs of life, the look of defeat on John’s face broke your heart. Tears start welling in your eyes as you looked at Lemar’s lifeless body. You saw Karli and her group starting to make a run for it.

Sam and Bucky made a chase for her immediately. John handed Lemar over to you before he sprinted for the window in front of you.

You could see the look of vengeance on his face and knew it didn’t bode well. You gently laid Lemar on the ground before waving your hand with your energy flames and placed it on where his heart was.

Rest in peace.

Your energy flames dissipated into his uniform and you stood up to follow behind John. You managed to catch him chasing after one of the Flag Smashers ahead of you. He was throwing his shield with brute force to knock the guy on his feet. You saw how the man was pleading for his life, claiming that he was not the one who killed Lemar.

John placed a foot to hold the man who was flailing his arms desperately. In a blink of an eye, he brought down the very shield that was used to protect people onto the man.

“NOOOOOOO!” You cried out in an attempt for John to stop his actions but it was too late.

Your eyes widened in unbelievable shock at what just transpired. When John lifted up the shield, you saw the blood that stained the legacy of the shield- Steve’s legacy.

You turned to see that a crowd was formed and people held out their phones to record what had happened. It didn’t sit well with you to know that in a matter of seconds, the whole world would also be watching this horrific scene too.

-------------------------//---------------------------

Tag list: @tanyaherondale @spookycereal-s @cataves @archaeoheart @conflicted-noxsirius @archaeoheart @idiotinnit @anxious-stitcher @lindseyrae20 @mads-weasley

Rescuing the baby (DC)

Barry Allen sighed as he was in the third hour of a 6 hour car trip, wondering for the millionth time why he had let his loving wife talk him into using a stupid car when he was the fastest man alive.

even as he cruised at a solid 55 MPH on the highway, it was like a slow walk to the man who when he wasn't being a CSI or a loving husband, happened to be the flash.

Of course he knew WHY and had agreed with her at the time, that Barry Allen managing to make it from Central city to Gotham in under 10 minutes would of raised all sorts of flag, but still. He hadn't even enjoyed the conference he'd been forced to go to by his supervisor, the highlight of the 3 day event had been hanging out with Batman.

Still it was over with and he vowed to find a way to squirm out of the next conference, even if he had to let a super villain or two out of jail. (Ok, he wouldn't actually do that but it was fun to picture on the long drive.)

Still there was a highlight on taking the long drive, it would give him a legitimate excuse to stop by and check on his favorite (well ok, only) nephew though his marriage to Iris: Wally west.

The boy had made a habit of spending any and all vacation time he could get (within reason) coming out and visiting them and while it made things a little harder on Barry's double life, seeing the freckled smiling face of the boy always made up for the slight inconveniences.

The only downside to making the trip without Iris (who had been kept busy with work) was there was no one to act like a filter between Barry and Rudy west, Wally's very unpleasant father who made his dislike of Barry well know while also never QUITE insulting Barry and giving him a excuse to put the bastard in his place. Barry knew that while Rudy would sight Barry's low income and long work hours as reasons that Barry might wanna find a 'real job', it was more the fact Wally looked up more to Barry then his own father that had turned the man more and more sour.

Barry also couldn't be totally sure, and wally wouldn't talk about it but since the poor boy had started bed wetting again Barry was convinced Ruby had started abusing his son, Mentally if not physically and disguising it as a spanking helped little bed wetters stop (a belief Barry did not follow)

Still he was sure wally would light up when Barry swung by as a surprise and if it just happened to ruin Rudy's day, gee, wouldn't that be a shame.

Rudy was home alone, having a beer (or two or three) and watching a game when there was a knock at the door. he started to call out for his wife Mary to go and answer the door before recalling where she was and got up out of his lazy-boy , cursing slowly as he spilled some beer on his plain white t-shirt.

"Hold your damn horses! I'm coming!" he called.

Already in a bad mood, it got worst as he saw who was at the door and sighing like he had the WORST luck, he opened the front door, sipping his bee that was still in his right hand.

"What do YOU want?" Rudy asked.

"Hi to you too Rudy." Barry said dryly , looking at his watch. "Little early for a brewski isn't it?"

"Don't tell me you drove all the way here to give me shit for enjoying a cold one on my day off." Rudy snorted. the booze took away what little filters he had and well, it wasn't like Iris or Wally or Mary were there to give him any shit.

"..I'm actually on my way back from a conference, and thought I'd drop by and see wally for a bit. and maybe enjoy your charming company." Barry said, then added. "Though PLEASE tell me you haven't been drinking in front of him? That's a bad example Rudy."

"Well Barry, when I want you to tell me how to raise my son I'll ask. Maybe I could give you advise on how to raise YOUR kids..Oh wait." Rudy said, smirking then taking a long drink, not aware the man he was insults could of stranded him in the middle of a city in just his boxers because he'd even know what was happening, and that Barry was fighting the urge to do so at this moment. "in any case, Wally's not here. He's in the ER with his mother. the little Klutz fell down the stairs and pretty sure he broke his ankle."

"Wait what? If he broke his ankle why aren't you-" Barry started, anger and fear mixing.

"Kid shit his pants and smelled something awful, so I stayed behind. wasn't room for me in the ambulance." Rudy paused and anther smirk. "and since I've been drinking I didn't wanna drive, I thought you'd appreciate that Barry."

"..How did Wally fall down the steps?" Barry asked, voice going low as something about the attuide and smugness in the man's voice had Barry worried.

"Stupid little dork tripped over his own pissy diaper when it hit the floor. you know he's wearing 24/7 now? started pissing himself at school!"

"...Rudy I happen to be VERY good at my job, and I'm going to drive over to the ER now and talk with Mary and see how wally's doing. If there's something you wanna tell me now, it'll help you out in the long run." Barry said, pushing his way into the house and the smile vanished from Rudy's face.

"I..I don't know what your-" Rudy stammered out, looking anywhere but at Barry now.

as much as Barry wanted to get the story out of Ruby, maybe go a little batman on him, his biggest concern was getting to wally before Mary, ever the dotting wife could convince Wally to keep the truth to himself.

"This is NOT over Rudy. Think about what I said about helping yourself. It IS what your best at." Barry said and stormed out.

Rudy gulped and slumped to the floor, wondering if it might of been time to call in some vacation time and take a little trip before Barry came back.

Barry's knuckles were going white as he drove to the nearest hospital, he wanted to just zip over but having the flash show up for a kid only Barry should know would of been against secret identity rule number one.

Still the time wasted on getting a parking spot and having to get directions irked him to no end when he knew he could of searched the place in less then 1.5 seconds.

Finding Mary sitting outside of the OR, he walked over to her and was silently counting down in his head as she looked annoyed and mad she was waiting on her only child to get out of surgery then worried.

"Barry, what are you doing here?" she asked, shocked and sounding a little worried.

"I went to stop by for a visit and Rudy told me what happened.." Barry said, then added. "How's Wally?"

"It's taking longer then they thought, they had to stop and change his diapers because he shit himself again. Like it wasn't taking long enough." Mary said and rolled her eyes then caught herself. "I mean, I just.. I'm annoyed he hurt himself is all. he should be really more careful where he puts his toys." She added fast.

Already spotting the difference in stories, Barry just rolled with it.

"Yeah, Rudy said it was a toy truck I believe. " Barry lied., hoping to catch her in the lie.

She looked confused for a second, then nodded.

"well, since he's started needing diaper ALL the time and his friends at school have shunned him, he's gone pretty infantile." she said.

"..Mary with this happening at home you know child services will be investigating right? So as a CSI my advice to you is to make sure you tell the truth. whatever it may be." Barry said, crossing his arms across his chest.

he didn't have the broad shoulders of Batman or superman, but he a twig either and cut a imposing frame.

"W-what do you mean by that?" She asked.

"Rudy told me Wally tripped down the stairs because of his diapers, you told me a toy, I'm damn good at my job Mary but it doesn't take a genius to guess what happened. I SAW the bruises last time me and Iris had him." Barry said flatly.

"I-I swear, it's not me Barry!" Mary said, keeping her voice low and looking around the waiting room now. it was only the two of them and it was clear she was scared now. "if I don't go along with it Rudy wi-" She started to add, But Barry cut her off.

"Iris and you went swimming together not too long ago and she would of told me about any bruises. If Rudy was mentally harming you then you would of taken this chance to out him. So drop the victim act."

"..Oh like you know what it's like, having a promising young boy end up pissing himself and shitting him and looking at his own parents with disdain because he'd rather be with his aunt and her side piece!" Mary snarled.

"watch your tone. Look, I'm willing to help you and Rudy out with this, stay out of jail because I don't want wally to have to visit you in prison..but the price is going to be simple and clear." Barry said.

"Let me guess, you need a loan?" Mary said, a smug smirk on her face reaching for a check book.

"I don't want your Money. I want wally somewhere safe. Me and Iris are going to take custody of him and your NOT going to contest it."

Mary argue, she called the house to tell Rudy about it but he wasn't answering having already taken off, leaving a note for Mary on where to find him and in the end Barry had his way. With Mary taking a taxi back home Barry cleared that he was the impending legal guardian and then located a pay phone. Calling Iris as he wanted on Wally to recover after his surgery to tell her everything that had happened, The only part of the whole thing she disagreed with was Barry letting them off Scott free.

After that he put in a call to a few friends in the DA and family court back in Central city and got assured the whole thing would be settled with minimal fuss.

Wally giggled softly as they wheeled him out of recovery. he was naturally in a wheelchair and dressed in a green gown that fluttered in the AC of the building revealing the thick green tinted diapers he was wearing and his left foot had a sock on it while the right had a thick off white cast around it. The boys freckles stood out as he smiled, his orangish red hair a mess and his eyes totally glazed over.

"Unca Barry! Hiiii!" he giggled and for a second went to get out of the chair before a nurse gently pushed him back down.

"Lizard queen, we talked about this, you can't walk yet." she said with a smile on her face and a amused tone.

"..Lizard queen?" Barry asked.

"Your nephew apparently has next to no tolerance for pain killers and well.." the blond nurse started but was cut off by Wally tossing his arms up.

"I AM THE LIZARD QUEEN! FEAR ME!" He giggled and coo'ed.

Barry snorted and nodded.

"I see. well is her Majesty ready to be signed out yet?" he asked, coming over and patting a head on wally head, a paternal gesture to most, and it was head, though he was also looking for lumps or bruises.

"we'd like to keep him for a little while longer, at least until he's more lucid and well, his clothes are clean and out of the landry. I'm sure the lizard queen would prefer not to drive around in just a diaper." the nurse chuckled."besides, you might wanna go and stock up on some item's Mr. Allen."

"Heh, touche. Wall man, you gonna be ok with the nurse while Uncle Barry goes and gets some supplies for you?"

"I can count to purple." Wally giggled and held out his arms for a hug.

"Oh wow, thats VERY talented!" Barry chuckled and kneeled down, Hugging the smaller boy gently and then feeling Wally slump and pulling back, alarmed.

"Relax Mr.Allen, it's the drugs, he's just been sleepy. Someone will stay with hi in his room to watch him." She said, putting a reassuring hand on Barry's shoulder.

the statement was made to sound like it was because of his drugged state, but the underline was that they were making sure Mr. and Mrs.west didn't come back.

"I'll be back as fast as I can." Barry said and took off.

Getting in the car he drove out to a field where he could park it and felt assured it would be left alone for at least a few minutes. Sliding out from behind the wheel and hitting a special ring he wore out popped a compressed version of his costume and making around in a blur, he quickly suited up and then put his clothes in the back seat of his car.

Experience had taught him that when it came to what he was likely going to need to to to pack a duffel bag for wally, his normal clothes wouldn't of made it.

in the micro seconds it took him to get to the west household a check check confirmed that the doors were locked and not wanting to give them any chance of coming back and getting him or Iris in trouble Barry backed up a few feet in their back yard where the sight of the flash wouldn't be seen(or at least not as easily) for the 2 seconds it would take to ready himself for this.

One of his more useful skills could also be terribly destructive if he wasn't careful so taking a deep breath he readied himself then started to dash at the back door, willing his molecules to vibrate just right and he was able to phase though the door clearly, not blowing it up like he'd done when he'd first learned this trick.

Racing up the stair Barry helped himself to a duffel bag and filled it with some of Wally's clothes, recalling his favorite t-shirts and pants, and as well as the boys gaming devices and a few of his action figures and books, and of course the teddy bear wearing a costume just like Barry's that they'd made at a make bear last year.

with the duffel bag full Barry helped himself to a back pack now, and filled it with the thick, over the top babyish diapers the wests had gotten their son, that while cute and made Barry warm up to a idea he was getting, made him fume as it was clear they had been trying to shame the boy out of his accidents.

he also helped himself to the changing supplies and noted the extra steanght diaper rash cream and made a note to ask the nurse about if wally had a rash when he got back.

Giving the room one last look over, Barry slowed down enough to be hit by the smell of the diaper pail in the corner and grimaced, smell molecules couldn't affect him when he was moving at super speed but they tended to come back with a vengeance once he slowed down.

Looking in the diaper pail the thing didn't even have a bag in it and was set where the sun was sure to hit it as well, and had marking on the inside showing how full it had to be before Wally would of been allowed to change it.

"..Should of smashed the bastard into a pulp when I had the chance." he growled, then sped back up, leaving the room.

he simply unlocked the back door and placed the bags on the grass as they wouldn't of survived the trip though the door then went back in and re locked it and zipped back though it before packing the bags in the car and changing back to his normal clothes, the whole thing taking all of maybe five minutes.

Getting behind the wheel of the car, he fished out a JLA commutator he kept with him at all times (which all Justice leaguer's were required to do, though some like Green tended to forget) and made a call to Batman, for the plan he had to make wally happy and settle in at home and life with the Allen's, he was going to need a bit of finical help.

Once the situation was explained Bruce was only too happy to help though recommended that they take Wally's recovery slowly, but warned Barry he wouldn't hold back if the west's happened to end up in Gotham city.

Barry took Batman's advice and extended his leave, even after wally was discharged from the hospital they didn't go to Central city right away, Barry taking the sullen and emotional boy to several road side attractions on the drive back.

wally had been unwilling to confirm that he'd been pushed down the stairs at first, even when it became clear that his parents had admitted to at least some of it. (as it turned out he'd been pushed down the stairs twice before this.)

The worried about diaper rash had been confirmed and while Wally whined that he could look after his own diaper changes, Barry was having NONE of that and insisted on changing his nephew, teasing the blushing boy about the freckles on his butt that became more clear as the rash faded.

Wally also was embarrassed at first but grew to like how Barry insisted on carrying the boy instead of making him use his crutches, his thin and light frame made it easy enough.

Getting home to central city Barry was all smiles and wally was actually more relaxed and ok, even eager to see Iris as they pulled up, who was in fact waiting in the drive way for them and rushed out.

"Wally! How are you? Are you ok?" She asked, showering the boy in hugs and kisses and fussing over him as he got out of the car on his crutches, having insisted on not being carried into the house.

"I'm fine aunt Iris, just a little sore. Aunt iris I'm.. Iris.. Barry help!" Wally giggled and then gave a mock plea for help.

"heh, Maybe let him get in the door before you shower him with love?" Barry suggested, getting his bags and Wally's out of the trunk of the car.

"Never!" iris chuckled but did back up, while adding. "Just so you know little guy, expect lots of that from me."

"heh, well I suppose I'll allow that." Wally said, grinning like a goof ball as he made his way towards the front door.

Iris and Barry exchanged grins, as if to say 'that's cute, he thinks he has a choice!'

getting the wall man inside Barry put the bags down by the door and swept Wally off his feet.

"wally, there's a little something that me and your aunt have been meaning to talk with you about, and we think it's going to help your recovery a lot." Barry said, heading for a room on the first floor that had been converted into wallies new room since they didn't like the idea of him having to go up and down stairs.

"Oh? what is it?" wally asked, not even fighting it as he was carried on Barry's hip, his thick diaper puffing out his cargo shorts.

"well, we think a bit of regression therapy would help with your recovery so on that note.." Barry said, and opened the door to Wally's new room.

The wall's were painted flash red with little flash symbols on the walls every few feet and there was a light yellow plush carpet on the floor.

what caught Wally's eyes though as the little guy's jaw dropped was the large changing table and a crib in the room, as well as a large toy chest.

"So.." Iris said coming up and kissing Wally's cheek. "what do you think of your nursery?"

Spoilers Ahead for the first season of My Next Life As A Villianess <3

Oh where to begin. First of all, when the summary said it was a comedy of misunderstandings, I got scared. I have really bad second hand embarrassment and it’s a very fine line of Dense Misunderstandings For Comedy and A Cringefest of Pain For “Comedy” (even playing an anxiety spiral itself for laughs). But oh! How I was happily surprised! It really goes with the flow and doesn’t rely on ridicule or anything. There’s just Catarina, dense weird wonderful Catarina, and everyone in some fashion accepts her for her. So this is actually pleasant to watch!

Now, Catarina- what a delight. What makes her interesting is she takes Fortune Lover Catarina and humbles her. Takes selfish and mean and spins it 180. If she puts out mean into the world, it comes back at her in the end. She knows she has the potential for a ‘scary face’ and actively chooses not to use it. And her feelings on the matter are not just for survival, theyre genuine too. But what makes this fascinating is her lack of accounting for things *not* in the game. She doesn’t consider, by blazing a new path in the game -where Catarina is nice- that new ‘routes’ form. She focuses on Maria’s pov so much, she doesn’t see her own. She doesn’t see the good she’s put out, cuz she’s supposed to be the antagonist. She’s so focused on the doom flags, she doesn’t realize there *are* no doom flags. There’s nothing for the game to doom, no punishment for cruelty. What’s more, even by taking the place of ‘The Suitors’ in scenes with Maria, she doesn’t consider /any of them/ having feelings for her. (Geordo kisses her neck for crying out loud.) Why? Because Catarina Claes is not a romanceable character in Fortune Lover. There are a lot of paths, but she is not one of them. She has no successful romantic relationship, nor any. Which makes this whole anime downright Fascinating. By taking out the antagonist, there is no doom. By inserting a reborn earnest friendly kind tree-climbing high school girl in her place, there is no Fortune Lover. The fact that she is aware of Fortune Lover makes her almost omnipresent, and putting all her points into Survival and Durability and Craves Sweets and nothing else, makes her human. No high marks, denser than bricks, but damn if she ain’t the prettiest embodiment of a Nokia phone. She’d be an apocalypse survivor. “How did she survive a landslide in a volcano? Idk it’s Catarina.” Oh, and the last scene? The friendship ending? Yeah, she’s not wrong. It is a friendship ending.... for Maria. She ends up with none of the interests and stays good friends with them, no bad blood or nothing. Cuz again, Catarina isn’t a love interest. It just so happens that the entire company present in the area is so fucking in love with her that they say the Line Of Romance to her and, while they may bicker, they do not hold bad feelings for each other. If all of them could be married to Catarina and live in a big ol house together, they’d be so fuckin content. And best part? None of this is condemned. No “ya gotta pick one and only one”. They saw a harem and went ‘ya know? Let’s embrace this’ and now the characters r so chill with their plant growing, tree climbing gf. (I’m sure her mother wishes *something* good could rub off on Catarina lol) You hear that? That’s the sound of a Polyamorous nerd feeling validated. (It’s me, I feel validated by this Polyamorous romcom anime, this is my home now)

My thoughts on the rest of the cast aren’t going to be as long. The anime does a good job of going through each characters thoughts and arcs. And I adored Anne’s POV on things as well, how she is also moved to tears by Catarina’s good heart. Even her mother, who is harsh but only because she cares. (I would have loved to see the look on her mother’s face when she was in the coma, how she would have grieved, what she would have reflected on. Her father is a bit more transparent in emotions, but he would have been great to see too). I also would have loved to see Mary and Maria in the book of desire. I figure Maria would kinda be like Alan, but oh, what would Mary have done? (Guess I need fanfiction to answer that lol.) Keith’s role as a love interest for Catarina is the only least liked thing I have on here. And honestly it’s cuz they keep *calling* them brother and sister. I know they’re not actually siblings, mostly that’s left over from Fortune Lover, and “distant relative” can and is shorthand for a lot of things so like it’s even possible they aren’t related at all. And the characters don’t find it horrible that he loves her, and probably know he’s a Distant Relative so they’re like whatevs. So like, it’s not incest. It’s not even as potently close to incest as anime can get. But it’s the only thing that could be deemed a Flaw about this anime, so it stands out. I do wish the ending couple of eps could have been a little more Maria, and her having a bit more importance in general. Also her light magic having an effect a bit in the ‘fight’ with Sirius. Although I do want to think the green glow of hope was Maria, tho I’m pretty sure the assumption is Acchan.

Which btw can I say was an absolute treat? I suspected something was up with Sirius but I did not suspect that. I wonder what his base magic is, if it isn’t dark magic? I had thought he saved Sophia and Catarina and thus also had wind/light magic. But oh man, when he started lashing out on Catarina cuz he thought she was also faking kindness? That she was purposely saving people? That a part of his resentment of nobles was being projected? That somewhere he also caught Feelings and thus the mage doubled down on his control? That when Catarina looked at Sirius and touched his hand and face, her (Nerd™️) instincts kicked in and pieced everything together and also saw him in such pain and misery? That she holds herself to the antagonist title, that she’s there to ruin and thus can’t *save* anyone, (a bittersweet sentiment) so she’s not intimidated by the burst of dark magic and just honestly wants his friendship and sit with him through his pain? MY HEART! IT SCREAMS! (I love this sort of dynamic yes Ive loved Fruits Basket for years don’t look at me like that).

What else.... the little peppering in the fact that Oh Yeah She’s Dead hit like a truck. The little bit with her family, of her past life? Yeah, ouch. Got me crying. Don’t think to much into that rabbit hole, you’ll get sad. I fucking ADORE the twist of Sophia being Acchan, or at least part of her. Her being so scared of loosing her best friend (and love of her life) again? Yeah, tears man. Catarina accidentally mending the relationships between Geordo and Alan and Maria and her mother was great. Having Mary and Sophia dance with Catarina at her birthday party was a delightful touch, as was not having all the romance novels be m/f, and none of it was a joke or negatively placed- just *there*. I do enjoy the interests butting heads with each other over private time with Catarina. It was mostly Geordo and Keith (“they’re such good friends” girl if they had a tenth of lil Alan’s Fight Me energy you’d have to put them on leashes) but I loved the little bits of Geordo vs Mary and Sophia cheering on Nicol and I reeeeally hope to see more of that. To provoke subtle sass from Alan and Maria would be a great sight, and more of Raphael joining the ranks. I laugh at all the times they mutter “gotta protect her, she’s seduced another one” cuz like, girl ain’t doing shit but running into people that happen to be Moron-sexual, holding their hand and refusing to leave. And they KNOW that. And it’s great. edit: HOW COULD I FORGET HER MAGIC! God I want Catarina to get better at magic. More than just Earth Bumps pls

All in all? I love this anime. 9.5/10. Tis good stuff. And if ya read all my late night/oops it’s 4am ramblings, good on you! I feel bad tagging this cuz it’s long but I’m also on mobile so god knows what this actually looks like but I needed my thoughts down so hey, thanks

I smell a story with the ruined trip

I could have sworn I spoke about it on here before... Then again, I do have more followers since then.

Basically it was going to be my second time at Anime Expo. I had been doing everything in my power to convince my mother that I was responsible enough to go on that long of a trip that I was mostly in charge of (she was and still is on the overprotective side). My former acquaintance (I thought she was a friend, turns out... No) was excited to go to and she insisted that she had all her travel plans together and that her parents were going to be able to drive us to the place I had found for us to stay in LA during the trip. 

Everything was fine. 

... Things did not stay fine, though.

However... My acquaintance’s father, around this time, had been diagnosed with cancer and had had some of it removed as well as going through chemo. With this in mind, I asked my friend ‘Do you still want to go on this trip? I can understand if you want to stay home with your parents and your mind may be on what your father is going through.’ 

My acquaintance insisted ‘yeah, it’s fine!’ and her mother even insisted that it would be good for her to go on the trip to get her mind off of things. 

However, it also came up that my acquaintance had had to refund her pass to have some money in the house. But, seeing that she was going through a tough time, I mentioned to her and her mother that maybe I could help out with buying her another pass. My mom gave me hell for this, but I wanted to be a good friend during a trying time. 

So the day of the drive to LA arrives. My mother had also helped me to get a cooler so we could take food and not have to use what little money I had on food. And my acquaintance even said she and her mother would take care of food since they had a Costco membership and stuff (to kind of offset me buying the pass for her). I show up to my acquaintance’s house, get everything settled... 

Brief note: I’m allergic to pork (non-avoidable) and I don’t like peanut butter in ice cream (not a health-issue but just an annoyance). 

My acquaintance had bought a bunch of food with pork in it and had bought ice cream with peanut butter in it.

I was... annoyed, especially since now I had to worry about food on an already tight budget, but my friend was going through something major so I didn’t want to make a thing of it. 

So we drive out to LA, arriving at high noon... on Day 0. Now, surely the internet has been filled with growing accounts of the misery that is Day 0 at Anime Expo. So, seeing how hot it is, I try to say ‘let’s go drop things off at my Uncle-in-Law’s house -- where we were staying. Also, ‘Uncle-in-Law’; his brother in Nigeria married one of my aunts and was such a miserable bastard that no one really cared when he got poisoned and died. Moving on --

But my acquaintance insisted that we should go get our badges right then and there and that her parents could find somewhere to stay while we were in line. 

But, again, this was Day 0 at Anime Expo in Los Angeles. Summer in Los Angeles, hell, in any part of Southern California is HELL. And my acquaintance’s father was going through cancer. But her mom agreed, just to appease her daughter, and we went through the 3-hour long line until we got our badges and called her parents to get us and take us to my Uncle-in-Law’s. Her father was noticeably not doing alright after sitting for hours in the SoCal heat, but my acquaintance and her mother were insisting that everything was fine. 

So we unpacked everything, said goodbye to her parents, and we got settled. Around 9 or 10 (I said we should head to bed earlier so my Uncle-in-Law could drive us to the convention center to get a good spot in line, in addition to having time to get our cosplay ready), my friend gets a call from her mother and then she, in a panic, relays to me that ‘oh, when her father got home he was feeling really winded and weak; and she’s so worried; and she’s not sure if she’s going to be able to sleep’

I was getting uneasy too (though I was thinking ‘this is why you shouldn’t have forced your parents to stay out in the heat for God knows how long), but I did offer: ‘Do you need us to go home? Maybe I could ask my Uncle-in-Law to drive us back tonight since he won’t be available after tomorrow morning’

But she said no... All while constantly stressing out and worrying back and forth about ‘maybe I should go home/no, I want to stay/I should go home/no, I want to have fun’. So that went on all night and then the next morning arrived. We got dressed, were driven to the convention center... And my friend continued on with her back-and-forth worry/ecstatic/worry. Now I was getting annoyed because I had given her an opportunity for us to go home when we had the opportunity to but now we were pretty much stuck and she was starting to cry about how now she wanted to go home to be with her parents. Not to mention the whole ‘I bought two four-day passes and we’re barely only going to be able to stay for one day’, but that was aside from the point. 

... But then she doubles back to her ‘I want to have fun’ state and even insists that we split up since our interests in anime were splintering at that point. So I had gone and actually found some Hetalia fans and cosplayers (I was cosplaying as Russia that year), made con-friends with a chick cosplaying as Cuba, saw a journalist who was bewildered at all the flags and historical uniforms and Soviet Russia cosplayers chanting ‘Soviet Takeover!’

However, after a few hours I had to hunt her down because something had me worried and, lo’ and behold, she had found two of our mutual friends who had decided to swing by the expo and was bemoaning about wanting to go home. So I was getting frustrated but I had to start making calls. Luckily, another one of our friend-of-a-friend’s was in the area and he had a truck and he said he could take us back home in a few hours from then. So, again, more frustration at our trip being cut short but at least I could get her home to her parents. So the final activity I was able to squeeze in was a panel on the history of Prussia being handled by an actual history professor who was so happy that something like Hetalia had come along to get people interested in one of his favorite historical nations to talk about. Even my Cuba-cosplayer friend happened to be in there and had saved me a seat. The panel was really entertaining, really informative... Kind of soured when my acquaintance and two of our mutual friends peeked in and one of them jeered ‘what the fuck, I thought this was supposed to be about anime?!’

So, the panel ended, we swung by the artist alley for a bit so she could get a picture with Vic Mignogna and then we had to go to a Subway to meet up with the mutual friend who was going to give us a ride. 

We had to pay him, too. That was great. So after begging my Uncle-in-Law to come back from his trip early, we got our stuff and drove back home. We dropped my acquaintance off first so she could check in on her father and when I was helping her get her stuff to her door, her mom opened the door and I asked ‘how’s Mr. Acquaintance’s Dad doing? She was really worried about him?’ 

... And her mom just piped up and said ‘Oh, he’s fine. He went to Home Depot a few minutes ago to pick up some tools and stuff. He’ll be back in a bit. Wait, did you drive all the way back here? Why didn’t you just call?’ 

So. Yeah. That was my last trip to AX: a clusterfuck of unneeded anxiety and wasted money and a bunch of ‘I told you not to go on this trip with that girl’ from my mother. 

But, it needs to be said and acknowledged, that I gave my acquaintance SO! MANY! OUTS! But, nope! She just decided to stress me out instead on top of everything else! 

So, yes, that was the story of my ruined trip.

For a fic prompt! How about Duck and Indrid are childhood best friends who are college roommates. Indrid has been in love with Duck for years, but when Duck starts dating Minerva it throws Indrid into a deep depression. Ideally Duck and Indrid do get together in the end (though hopefully Duck and Minerva’s breakup isn’t nasty) and you can get as angsty as you’d like! Honestly the angstier the better is my motto! Also I’m all for Indrid still having future sight, if you’d like! Thank you SO MUCH!

Here you go!

Quick content note: it contains trans Duck, including a scene where Indrid takes his side when he comes out in PE and, it’s implied, that coming out is not well recieved.

Indrid Cold lays face down on his bed. His phone is shoved under the black cotton of his pillow case, and he’s drawn the windows shut against the warm August air. 

This is a misery of his own making, he knows this. He can’t decide if the fact that it’s a misery nearly two decades in the making is impressive or pathetic. 

To understand the origins of it, one has to rewind the tape of his life back quite a ways.

——————————————————-

Duck Newton is six years old and hunting for miners lettuce in his backyard, when he feels like he’s being watched. 

Looking up, he finds a face framed with shaggy dark hair, glasses perched on a pointy nose, peeking over the fence at him. As soon as the face sees him, it ducks back down. 

Weird. 

He goes back to foraging, only to find the face watching him again a minute later. This time, when it disappears, he clambers up the oak tree alongside the fence and scoots carefully out onto a limb that sticks out into the neighboring yard. The face, which belongs to a boy about his age, is staring up at him, as if he expected Duck to appear. He’s standing on the edge of the decorative fountain the old neighbors put in the yard. 

“Why’re you watchin me?”

“I wanted to know what you were doing.” 

“How come?”

“I’m bored. My dads are putting the house together and I don’t want to draw anymore.” He points to a stack of pictures, next to some crayons that are melting in the sun. 

Duck thinks; he hasn’t had anyone to play with since school got out. Leo, who lives down the block, is nine, so not as interested in having Duck trailing after him like a little brother as he used to be.

“…You wanna go see a huge crawdad?”

The other boy perks up, “I have no idea what that is.  But yes.”

“C’mon, meet me in the front yard. What’s your name?”

“Indrid.”

“That’s a weird name.”

“What’s yours?” Indrid crosses his arms, eyebrow raised

“Duck.”

Indrid stares at him, wide mouth curling up at one side. His stare is a bit unnerving, and Duck feels the need to explain himself.

“It’s a nickname.”

————————————————————

“I think that’s the same large one from last year.” Indrid peers over his sketchpad, staring down at a crawdad scuttling through the clear creek.

“Told you we shoulda put a colored tape on them or somethin so we could keep track.” Duck looks at the crustacean, and then back at the project he’s working on.

They’re nine years old, hazy and sleepy in the summer afternoon. This part of the creek is shaded, keeps them hidden from passersby and parents alike (they’ve learned to tell at least one parent where they’re going, after Greg, one of Indrid’s dad’s, panicked looking for them). 

“What are you making?” Indrid wiggles next to him in the grass, gnawing his pencil as Duck shows him. 

“S’a reed raft. I’m gonna see how far I can float it down the river.”

“I will draw a flag for it.” Indrid scribbles, and Duck grins at him. He continues, “I’m glad you’re back. I hate when you got to your uncle’s during the summer. I have no one to talk to.”

“You could talk to Dani.”

“She’s busy a lot.”

Duck looks a little guilty, “Did you get the postcards?”

“Uh huh.” Indrid nods, smiling at his friend to show there’s no harm done. He knows it’s not up to Duck where he goes. The postcards are pinned to his wall, along with his own drawings, some horror movie posters, and the postcards from the last two summers. 

“Oh, look at what I found while we were at the lake.” Duck reaches into his pocket, pulling out a smooth, wiggly-striped stone, “Uncle Jeff says it’s agate.” 

He holds it out and Indrid takes it, runs his fingers along the smooth, cool surface. It feels lovely. And it reminds him of what he likes most about being Duck’s friend; Duck can make anything, even a rock, seem interesting and special. 

Indrid is reminded of another reason he is lucky to have Duck the next morning. 

All the adults are down in the living room, talking worriedly. There’s been a car crash on the nearby highway, and one of the trucks was carrying something toxic. The school is closed, and everyone has been told to stay home because the air could be unsafe. 

Indrid is under all his blankets, his sketchbook thrown to the other side of the room.

“‘Drid?” The door creaks as Duck enters the bedroom. 

He wants to beg him to hide under the covers with him. He wants to tell him to go away. 

He sniffs, wipes his nose on his arm, and hears Duck turn towards the bed. The covers slowly lift, and Indrid blinks blearily, tearily up at him.

“Have you been cryin?” Duck looks worried. 

He nods. 

“Did you know someone who got hurt?”

“No. I, I saw it happen. In my head. Over and over last night. I thought I was imagining it. But then it happened. Th-that happens a lot, ever since my birthday. It’s like, like I see things and then sometimes they happen and sometimes they don’t. I draw them but, but I’m afraid if my dad’s find out they’ll, they’ll think I’m wrong, somethings wrong with me.” 

As he’s talking, Duck sits down next to him, rests his arm around his shoulders. 

“Nothin’s wrong with you ‘Drid. This is weird, but it don’t make you bad. You should tell you dads. They’re nice, they’ll help you.” He squeezes Indrid’s arm, smiling at him as he rests his head on his shoulder, “I’ll help you too.” He slips the agate from his pocket and into Indrid’s hands, moves their fingers over it in tandem until the motion soothes Indrid’s breathing down, then tucks it into Indrid’s pocket.

————————————————————————————–

“You okay ‘Drid?” Duck plops down on a cafeteria bench Kepler Middle School, Indrid poking glumly at his fruit salad. 

“We had oral presentations today. I did mine on my moth.” He taps the jar in front of him. A week or so ago it had contained a caterpillar that he and Duck had identified as belonging to a Banded Tiger Moth. Indrid had decided to raise it into adulthood, Duck helping him figure out which weeds to feed it before it went into its cocoon. When it emerges, he and Duck have the perfect spot picked to release it.

“What’s wrong with your moth?”

“Nice glasses, mothman!” A voice yells, two boys high-fiving when Indrid shrinks in on himself. 

“Hey, fuck you, mothman rules!” Duck thanks his lucky stars none of the cafeteria monitors heard him. He recognizes those two; they’re in Indrid’s CORE class with him, meaning the nickname has already spread. Indrid, with his tics and his tendency to finish people’s sentences, his glasses and scraggly appearance, has been pegged as a target for months. It makes Duck’s blood boil to see them turn something Indrid spent time looking after into an insult. 

That night, he grabs a sharpie and one of his grey t-shirts. 

The next day, he turns up with “Mothman Rules” scrawled on his chest. Indrid’s smile is worth the lecture he gets about messing up his clothes. 

———————————————————–

Indrid and Duck sit side by side in the principals office. Their gym clothes in Kepler Middle’s colors, grey and maroon, seem even grimmer right now.

They haven’t done anything wrong, not as far as Indrid is concerned. 

Duck stood in the boys line-up during P.E, that’s all. When he refused to move to the girls line, the teacher told the rest of the boys to line up all over again, elsewhere. They all moved, except Indrid, who insisted that Duck was in the right line and refused to play along with a bid to deny that.

They have been sent to the principal for “causing trouble.”

“You didn’t have to do that.” Duck murmurs. 

“I did. You’re my friend, Duck. And Mr. H is an asshole.”

He thinks, but does not say, that it would take far more than a gym teacher and the threat of detention to leave Duck’s side when he’s in trouble.

———————————————————

It’s Indrid’s 16th birthday, and his dads are throwing a very subdued sweet sixteen. He dyed his hair silver, and they’ve ordered an entire table of desserts from a local bakery, and he, Duck, Juno, Dani, and Barclay have stuffed themselves while watching movies and teasing Dani for being ga-ga over her long-distance girlfriend, Aubrey, who she met playing an online tabletop games. 

Once the other three leave, Duck grabs Indrid’s jacket and hands it to him. 

“C’mon, lets go to the creek. Got somethin to show you.”

Indrid follows him, teasing him as they turn down the creekbed, “We’re not going to have a repeat of the beer incident are we?”

Duck laughs, “No. Learned better than to give that hummingbird palate of yours booze.”

They hit the familiar dirt of their favorite spot, and Duck gets on tiptoe and reaches into the trees above them. Strings of lights, red to match Indrid’s new glasses, and white, snap on. Below them is a blanket, and Indrid sits down with a perplexed smile. Then he checks the futures, and understands. 

“Is this entirely sanitary?”

“Enough.” Duck grins, pulling out a lighter and safety pin, “I did it on mine and I still got the ear.”

“Very well.” Indrid crosses his legs, checks the futures it be double sure this won’t end in infection, and braces himself, “left ear please.”

“Right. Okay, one, two-”

“OWowowowow.” 

“Done!”

“Ow.” Indrid winces as Duck cleans the newly-pierced ear, loosens his grip on the agate in his fist.

“Can’t believe you still carry that thing around.”

“I find it soothing. Ooh, how nice.” Indrid picks up the black moth-shaped earring Duck hands him. 

“Figured it’d be better to start with a smaller one. And now that you’re all done, you can officially burn your list.”

Indrid pulls a worn sheet of binder paper from his pocket. When he, and then Duck, turned fifteen, they wrote out lists of things they wanted to do before they hit sixteen. He crosses out get ear pierced, then mutters, “I’m still missing one.”

Duck looks at him quizzically. He turns the paper around and points to first kiss.

“Wait, I thought you and Carlos-”

“Nope. Never got that far before we broke up.”

Duck sits next to him, gets a mischievous grin on his face, “Think I know how to help.”

“How’s tha-”  

It’s barely a kiss, Duck bringing their lips together just long enough for Indrid to feel him sigh happily. Then he pulls back, still grinning. 

Indrid is certain that if he looked down at himself, his veins would be pulsing technicolor, his body lit up like the cheap neon in their tiny downtown. 

“Ta-dah, list complete.” Duck whispers. 

“Thank you.” Indrid whispers back. 

He doesn’t think much of it for the rest of the night, figures it’s just a meeting of Duck’s goofier side with his desire to help a friend. 

It’s only when he’s laying in bed, playing the kiss over and over again like a favorite song, that he realizes he might be in trouble. 

————————————————————-

Indrid knows the likely outcome, but that doesn’t stop him from leaping up excitedly when Duck bangs the front door open.

“‘Drid, I got in! did you, oh, hey Mr. Cold, did you?”

“Yes.” Indrid grins from the bottom of the staircase. 

“Oh hell yeah! Juno got in too! Maybe we can all be roommates.”

As much as Indrid would like that outcome, the arbitrary housing system of UWV Huntington has other ideas. Duck ends up partnered with an affable if often absent psych major, Juno gets a single in the same dorm, just two floors down, and Indrid is stuck with a frat-boy business major.

That doesn’t stop them from making the most of their first year of college. Indrid crashes on Duck’s floor some nights, and the two of them manage to swing having a film class together during spring semester. They each dip their toes into the wild sea that is college dating, with mixed results, trading advice and anecdotes in the dark of Duck’s room.

And none of that, not one single bit, does anything to dampen Indrid’s romantic feelings for his friend. 

It’s not that he doesn’t try, just as he’s been trying every day since his 16th birthday. He loves Duck as a friend, wants to be in his life forever. He can’t afford to love him any other way. It’s too risky. And so he tries, over and over and over, to quash those feelings. Sometimes they ebb, sometimes Indrid happily dates or hooks up with other people. 

But they always come back, like a faithful hound finding it’s way home. 

Because Duck will laugh in that ridiculous way of his, be vulnerable with Indrid in those private moments, make Indrid feel understood in a way no one else can. And he falls in love all over again. 

(And that’s before he even gets to the moments where Duck will strip his shirt off on hot days, or wander into the room in his boxer shorts, and Indrid feels the urge to plead with him for the privilege of feeling him up).

It’s because of all this that, when Duck asks if Indrid wants to move in together their sophomore year, he almost says no. 

But then he and Duck are sharing celebratory take-out in a half-unpacked apartment and he’s happier than he ever thought he could be. 

It’s not perfect by any means. Indrid can be messy, Duck can be terse, money can be tight. But Indrid is so at home with Duck, all that fades into the background. They have friends over, compare notes on dates, have junk food strewn study sessions on the couch, keep each other company during all nighters. 

Then, in May of their Sophomore year, things change. 

“‘Drid? Oh good, you’re still up. Um, I wanted to tell you somethin. Minerva and I are goin out.”

“Oh. That’s a bit unexpected.” Indrid sets his drawing aside.

“You tellin me you don’t use that magic-eight ball brain to spy on my love life?” Duck teases, plopping down onto the bed with him. 

“Never. So…why the switch from work-out buddies to this?”

“Dunno, just seemed like we’d been spendin a lot of time together. She actually tutored me back in high school, remember, so it’s kinda fun to be around someone who’s known me that long. Y'know, someone who watched me grow up.”

“I see.” Indrid kicks his jealousy until it goes limp and sinks back under the surface of his feelings, “well, that’s awesome then. I’m glad you’re excited Duck.”

And he is. It’s not a lie, goodness knows he’s well aware he has no claim to Duck’s affection or time. And Minerva does seem to make him happy, encourages Duck’s good habits like going to the gym (something Indrid has tried once and will never do again. Yoga and walking are fine by him).

But soon he cannot go anywhere with Duck, including his own apartment, without Minerva there. Duck spends all of his time with her, and Indrid learns it’s not just him; while Minerva is gladly included in their group get-togethers, Juno hasn’t seen Duck in weeks. And has barely heard from him. She is also a bit loud and Indrid, who has always had trouble with over-stimulation from noise, finds himself out of the apartment more and more often. 

Indrid can’t blame Duck for spending time with Minerva rather than him; she’s jockular, active, attractive (even if she does call Duck by his first name). Indrid is odd, reclusive, and well, weird looking. 

It all goes to hell at the end of August. 

“‘Drid! The study abroad program offered me a scholarship. I get to go to Brazil. This is so fuckin cool!”

“Wonderful!” Indrid claps his hands, “I know how badly you’ve wanted to go. You have to promise me to send me pictures of brightly colored bugs for art inspiration. Oh, and now we can tell Dani she has somewhere to stay while she and Aubrey look for a shared place.”

“Exactly. And guess what, it gets even better.”

“How-” he sees the answer coming, tries to keep his face neutral. 

“Minerva’s comin with me!”

“I wasn’t aware wildlife conservation and management was her area of interest.”

“It ain’t, but she’s comin as part of a grad study program. It’s gonna be so fuckin amazin.”

“I’m sure it will be.” The pull between his true feelings and his need to seem supportive renders his answer flat. 

“What’s up?” Duck sits down in the kitchen chair opposite him. 

“Nothing. Or, well, I suppose I’ve just now realized that I’ll be without a good friend for a semester. I’ll miss you.”

“Aw, I’ll miss you too, you big sap. Don’t worry, I’ll write you a bunch, send pictures too when I can.”

Indrid looks at the futures, then down at the table, “No, you won’t.”

“Huh? Why wouldn’t I?” Duck looks hurt.

“In all the timelines, you send me one postcard at maximum. In most of them, you send none. I slip your mind entirely, it seems.” His voice is tight.

“The fuck? How is that pos-”

“Any time not spent in the field, you are too engrossed by her to do anything else.”

Duck’s face hardens, “So that’s what this is really about.”

“I don’t know what you mean.” He lies. 

“You’ve been bothered by her since the start! You don’t think I notice that forced smile you get when she’s around, or the fact you leave the house when she comes over?”

“I get overstimulated when there is too much noise, you know that.” Indrid snaps back.   

“You hardly come out with us anymore, and you make it sound like she’s controlin me or some shit.”

“I, I do not. I just don’t enjoy when she barges in randomly.” He rubs his temples with his hands, trying to keep calm. 

“Christ, you really makin me choose between my best friend and the first girlfriend who’s made me feel this way? Why the fuck can’t you just be happy for me?”

“Because it should be me and not her!” Indrid spits out, hands dropping to the table and gaze meeting Duck’s own. 

Duck blinks back at him, “Really? Really? You had a million goddamn chances to confess how you feel and you choose now?”

“I, I didn’t, I tried so hard to ignore it, but, fuck, I didn’t mean to say it now but since I did: I’ve been in love with you for years. And, and I just, after everything, we’ve been so close-”

“What, you think that what, because we’ve been friends since we were kids and you been pinin after me for however the fuck long, I should just date you? Like it’s destiny or some shit? What the fuck man?” He stands and Indrid mirrors him. 

“Do not put words in my mouth. I never wanted to interfere in your life, I never, you can’t possibly know how I feel!”

“Oh yeah? You think I’m really that fuckin oblivious? I suspected you felt some kind of way about me, and I gave you chances to show me I was right!”

“Name one.” Indrid growls, stepping closer.

“Homecomin, my eighteenth birthday, about a dozen times last year where I asked if you had your eye on anyone and you’d change the goddamn subject,” Duck counts out on his fingers, closing the remaining distance, “hell, coulda used those weird powers of yours to see what would happen if you told me.”

“I was too scared to. And if you were so observant, and apparently not opposed to the idea, why didn’t you make a move on me?”

“What do you think me kissin you on your birthday was?”

“A joke! Goodness, Duck, you know I’m not great with social cues. I didn’t think you’d ever care about me that way.”

“You think I’m that fuckin shallow?”

“That’s not what I meant and you know it.” He growls. 

“So what was your end-game, huh? Just wait out everyone else, circle me like a fuckin vulture until I’d settle for you? Fuck, Minerva was right, you are creepy.”

Duck may as well have punched him. He sort of wishes he had. 

“Fuck. you. Wayne.” He hisses out, stepping around him and towards his room. 

“Nah, fuck you, Indrid. Fuck you for makin me think you actually cared about me when all you were doin was bidin your goddamn time!”

“That’s not, no, nevermind. I don’t have to explain myself to you.”

Duck tosses back, “That’s as good as a confession in my book, you creepy, mothman lookin motherfucker,” and Indrid slams the door. 

There’s ten minutes of hurried, angry movement in the rest of the apartment, and then the front door bangs shut. 

He cycles through anger (at himself, at Duck, at these obnoxious powers for not helping him prevent the fight), hurt, and numb acceptance that he has blown his oldest, closest friendship to smithereens. 

When he finally calms down enough to think clearly he realizes that, if nothing else, he doesn’t want that to be the last conversation they have before Duck leaves. 

He faceplants onto his bed, pulls out his phone, and types.

Indrid: I’m sorry for losing my temper, and for not telling you the truth sooner. Even though it would have been helpful if you’d been clearer in the past. Can we talk about this tomorrow, and try again?

The answer is immediate.

Duck: Staying with M until we leave. Don’t text me again unless the apartment is on fire.

He stares at the response, then slides the phone under his pillow, presses his face to the mattress, and lays there numbly until he falls asleep.

——————————————————

“Nope, you are not having a sad hook-up on my watch.” Barclay’s tone freezes Indrid in place, and he slumps back down into the booth at the bar. 

Barclay is only a year ahead of him, but at times he reminds Indrid of a mother hen. A very, very large mother hen. 

“I cannot believe I allowed you to drag me out on Homecoming weekend.”

“Indrid, you’ve been miserable for almost two months, and I’m honestly really worried about you. Plus, this place has super cheap, real good appetizers.”

“Thank you for not saying ‘apps.’’ Indrid sips his soda.

“That word is an abomination. And you’re avoiding the actual topic.”

“I destroyed my best friend’s trust in me, and am wallowing here while he cavorts in the rainforest with his girlfriend. I’ll survive, but there’s no rule that says I have to enjoy it.”

Barclay sighs, “Look, if I give you permission to be miserable while you do it, will you come to trivia night with me, Joe, and Jake? Dani’s usually out fourth, but she’s helping Aubrey get her magic show up and ready to open.”

Indrid blows a strand of hair from his face (the black patches are getting worse, he needs to dye it again), “I can mope as much as I want?”

“You can cry into your beer for all I care, as long as you let me buy it.”

Trivia night turns out to be much better than anticipated, though Joe, Barclay’s boyfriend, is terrifying to behold in a battle of information.

Movie goes better, game night even better still, and soon Indrid is hanging out with the others more days than not. He even helps Aubrey design and draw up some last minute posters for her show. 

It’s the morning after opening night (and the following celebration) that his phone alerts him to a new email. The subject simply says “Bug.”

It’s from Duck. 

All it contains is a photo, clearly taken at night on a phone, of a moth with bright pink wings and red eyespots. 

He types, Neat! Then, after a moment, adds What species?

He doesn’t expect a response. But the next day, another email awaits him.

Dr. Graslie (Entomologist here) thinks it’s Leucanella apollinairei. Here’s someone more familiar

This picture is of a small crustacean. Indrid smiles; it’s a crawdad. 

He replies Careful, maybe it followed you all the way from Kepler. Seen anything else interesting?

This time he waits two days for a response, but it opens with, sorry, internet is real spotty. Big shock, I know. 

This is followed by two paragraphs describing trees. Indrid has never been so happy to hear about root systems. 

Soon Duck is emailing him whenever he can. At first, it’s only about the wildlife, the field work he’s doing, and the terror of trying to practice hygiene in the middle of a rainforest. Slowly, other details appear; the things he’s homesick for, the ways in which he and Minerva are starting to grate at each other (you’d think being in the middle of nowhere’d get you some peace and quiet. Nope). 

Indrid responds with updates from school, pictures of the outings he and the others go on, news about the promo art several places in town have hired him to do after seeing the posters for Aubrey’s act. Says he hopes Minerva and Duck are able to work things out. 

Winter break comes sooner than seems possible, and he assumes the next time he sees Duck will be when they’re home visiting their folks. 

Which is why, when he’s sitting at home reading after his last final, the door opening alarms him (Dani has already moved out). That is, until he glimpses the future.

“Duck?” He calls softly.

His friend appears in the doorway, luggage left behind him in the entryway. 

“Hey, ‘Drid.”

“I, ah, assumed you’d be staying with Minerva until you could officially move out.”

Duck shakes his head, “I ain’t movin anywhere. Unless you want me to.”

“No.” Indrid fidgets with the agate, tucked safely in the pocket of his sweatpants. 

“We, uh, we broke up. Minerva and me. It was, uh, mutual, though she was the one to pull the trigger, so to speak. Just found there were some things we didn’t agree on. Weren’t compatible on neither.”

“I’m sorry.”

Duck snorts what’s almost a laugh.

“I mean it.” He stands, voices earnest and gentle, “I know you were happy with her, and the relationship meant a lot to you.”

“Yeah” Duck sounds tired, “It did. But it turns out another one meant more.”

Indrid stops moving. Also, possibly, breathing. 

“I…well, I sent you that first email instead of apologizin because I was still kinda hurt, but I realized I missed you. I didn’t want you gone from my life. And the longer I was gone, the more times I turned around wanting to tell you somethin and was sad you weren’t there, got excited at the thought of showin you somethin or sending you pictures, I realized I did plenty to fuck things up. And that’s before we get to the fact I was dreamin about you most nights.”

Duck steps awkwardly forward, until they’re toe to toe, “I missed you, ‘Drid. So fuckin much. And I’m sorry for the things I said durin the fight.”

“As am I. I ought to have thought how my confession would appear to you. I’m sorry I did not.”

“I guess, what I’m tryin to say is I feel like a real dipshit for havin to go halfway across the globe to realize what I really want.”

“And what do you want, Duck?”

Duck cups his cheeks, and then Indrid is tipping forward, into a kiss he’s dreamed of for years. His arms close around Duck’s shoulders, his lips taste chapstick and cold night air. He pulls away to breathe and gets only an instant to do so, Duck chasing his mouth for kiss after kiss, his eagerness sending them tripping onto the bed. 

Indrid lands on top of Duck, hears him whimper when his name leaves Indrid’s lips.

“‘Drid, ‘Drid, please-”

“Yes” He kisses his cheek, “whatever it is, the answer is yes.”

Duck giggles into his neck, “You got no idea how bad I wanna make a goof on that. But, fuck, ‘Drid, I can’t, all I want is you.”

“Likewise.” He purrs, hooking Ducks leg around his own, nuzzling up his neck before attacking his lips with kisses. 

“That, that a rock in your pocket or are you just glad to see me?” Duck tugs on his lower lip.

“Both. See?” He produces the agate, holds it where Duck can get a look at it.

“Holy shit, is that the one I gave you a million years ago?”

“Indeed. It became a sort of grounding object, because it was pleasant to touch and reminded me of you. Later it morphed into a sort of good luck charm.”

Duck closes Indrid’s fist around the rock and kisses it, grins, “There, now it’s twice as lucky.”

Indrid holds him close, basks in the love radiating from him as he murmurs, “It’s not the luckiest thing in the room, though. That honor, I believe, belongs to you and I.”

I saw your conversation about Sam Manson. I was talking to Imekitty about this, but I’ve noticed a few things that (sort of) make Sam’s relationship with her parents seem more like teen-drama than actual hardship. If you look closely, she’s got a lot in common with them: outspoken political-activism, possible shared-interest in vintage clothes, and no shame in saying they don’t like certain people. Also, after the Fentons, they were the first to volunteer to use the Ecto-Skeleton, risks and all.

(In reference to this post.)

It’s been a little while since I rewatched DP so I’m not well-placed to do a detail-analysis implication-breakdown right now, but yeah - that fits with the overall impression I remember getting.  To me they came across as being sort of old fashioned set-in-their-ways conservative and snooty, and maybe a bit too Pleasantville -  but more often in the way of parents who do genuinely want good things for her and to be able to be proud of her despite not really understanding her interests, choices or friends and being very bad at expressing it.  Plus she seems to have her grandmother fully in her corner a lot of the time.

I really wish that the writers had committed to one or the other; either making it clear that Sam’s martyr/ persecution complex is mostly just regular self-inflicted teen-drama BS and giving her an arc addressing it, OR fleshing out the idea that she faces a lot of judgement/ pressure/ control/ nonacceptance in her home life and that her negative traits are a bi-product of defensive/ coping mechanisms resulting from that strained dynamic, rather treating things with Roger Rabbit Rules.  

(Which isn’t to say that a person can’t have similar interests/ personality traits to, and positive interactions with, their parents while still having a strained, broken or even abusive relationship with them on a deeper level, but the show never really goes hard enough in either direction to make it work.)

As mentioned the last post, this is kind of a consistent pattern across DP - the writers tend go with the low-effort first answer for whatever is Funny or Awesome or Convenient in the moment rather than putting in the work to find a solution that’s consistent with the characterisation, themes and world-lore overall.  There’s enough internal contradiction in the show that I don’t think it’s actually possible to take every canon detail as canon without fundamentally breaking things.  And in some ways that’s kind of cool; it makes the series more open to interpretation, and trying to distinguish authorial intent from authorial incompetence and come up with theories that account for as many pieces of canon as possible is really satisfying.  But, you know, it’s also kind of bad writing in general.

I think the thing that bothers me about Sam’s characterisation in particular is that - where it tends to be more obviously out-of-character when it shows up in other places - there’s a pattern to the inconsistency with how the writers handle Sam:

Throughout the series there’s a double standard in how Sam sees herself/ seems to expects others to act, compared to her own behaviour:

Despite being pro-pacifism she’s okay with smacking Tucker and encouraging Danny to destroy the trucks she doesn’t like

Sam values self-expression and is a feminist, but derides other girls for wanting to express themselves in a conventionally feminine way

Sam doesn’t like being forced to conform to others’ values but is okay with forcing others to conform to hers

Despite being anti-consumerist she shows very little discomfort at, or awareness of, her lavish home life and material belongings

She encourages Danny to take the moral high ground towards his bullies but has no problem antagonising and getting into petty verbal spats with Paulina herself

Sam stalks Danny and his love interest out of jealousy/ protectiveness but threatens to end their friendship when he does the same

In Mystery Meat, when Danny tries to express his discomfort/ anxiety, Sam hijacks the conversation to complain about her own parents instead of listening.

In One of a Kind Sam photographs Danny and Tucker hugging in their sleep, without their knowledge, with the stated intent of putting it in the yearbook, then uses it to blackmail them into silence. 

Side note: this joke is also tacky on a meta-level because it boils down to “male intimacy ha ha toxic masculinity no homo amiright?“ Would have been nice if show didn’t use low-key sexist humour as much as it did.

Instead of expressing that she’s hurt by Danny’s “pretty girls” comment in Parental Bonding, Sam retaliates by pushing him to ask Paulina out - a move she knows will most likely result in him getting publicly shut down and humiliated.

Then, after getting the result she wanted, she comes over to gloat and insults Paulina, rather than dropping it now that her point’s been made, which is what ultimately sets off the episode’s subplot.

In Memory Blank Sam permanently physically alters Phantom’s appearance to better suit her tastes while he’s not in a position to understand or give informed consent, then lies when Danny notices and asks about it later.

To be clear this definitely isn’t the be-all-and-end-all of her character and it’s not there 100% of the time - there are plenty of moments when she is loyal and generous and helpful and sincerely kind and where her stubbornness comes in handy.  But it’s the aggregate pattern of all these small instances that drives a crack through the foundation of her character integrity; producing this insidious undercurrent alternate-reading of Sam as someone who, at a deep level, just doesn’t respect or recognise that the emotional needs, pains, opinions, autonomy and boundaries of others are as real and valid as her own, and who responds to criticism with passive-aggressive hostility.

Again, I think that’s why people are so quick to point out that line from Phantom Planet, even though we all know the episode was a complete mess.  None of the examples above are particularly bad in isolation - you can’t really point at any one of them and say “oh no, bad girl” without sounding like you’re making a mountain out of molehill and irrationally hating on her just to hate on her.  It’s an uncomfortable slowburn pattern of subtle micro-transgressions that accumulates across the series - a “you might not notice it but your brain did”.  And it makes sense that it would be the worst-written episode that amplifies and brings that regular bad-writing undercurrent close enough to the surface for people to consciously recognise and use it to articulate those frustrations.

To wit: Not because it’s most telling of her character but because it’s most telling of the specific bad writing that regularly hurts her character. 

And again, from a storytelling point of view, it’s okay for Sam to have flaws.  She’s a teenager!  She’s learning.  She’s allowed to be egocentric and self-important and do things that aren’t the best at times.  It’s okay if these are her character weaknesses and a source of conflict with the rest of the cast.  But again, for that to be satisfying something really should have come of it.  It would have been nice if the writers were willing to have any self-awareness about these flaws being flaws that a person should recognise and grow past in order to have healthy relationships with others.  But they didn’t - because it’s easier to keep her as she is - to the point that they’ll actively bend the narrative to roll back or skip over moments that would have necessitated that growth.  So, even though they call attention to her flaws, the writers end up rewarding and enabling them instead of letting her learn.

And again, this isn’t meant to hate on Sam.  Hanlon’s Razor in full effect: it’s clearly a result of authorial/editorial incompetence rather than deliberate malice.  I know this isn’t the intended interpretation.

My preferred reading of Sam Manson is that she’s a Rosa Hubermann/ Hermione Granger/ YJS1 Artemis Crock-type character.  Someone who’s passionate and forceful and maybe a bit abrasive and hard to love at a glance, but whose core nature is compassionate and sincerely kind and loyal-to-the-death for the people they value.  I wish I could 100% like her without caveats; to be able to say that even if I don’t agree with her flaws I can at least understand that they’re a valid product of the life she lives, that they make her who she is and that she’s trying her best to be a good person who will get better despite them.  

But I can’t because the writers don’t give her that.  They’re always prioritising other things over the integrity of her character.  They don’t give her background enough time and context to make her negative traits feel resonant with it (because that would take time away from the Wicked Cool Radical Ghost-Fighting Superhero Action™) and the framing and plotting doesn’t give her chances to recognise or grow past them (because that would mean character development and those negative traits are an easy source of cheap conflict).  The writers just don’t seem to care all that much about Sam - her actual character, who she is, how she came to be that way, what she wants or how her negative traits would actually play against Danny and the others.

And that sucks.  Because she has a lot of potential to be a well-rounded and great character.  I’ve seen plenty of fics that seize that potential and roll with those gaps and the result is very good.  I wish I could like her canon depiction without feeling like I have to actively ignore a bunch of latent behavioural red flags as the price of entry.

She deserved better.

The Best Intentions - Part 29

(Have to put all of it under a cut because the first part is kind of explicit, but hey, it’s Ansgar and Joline and if you’re reading you know how they are. Are you reading? Well, shit -- I have no idea. If you are thank you! xx)

“Ah… fuck! Going to… Joline, I’m…. ah!”

He’d tried to warn her, but his words went entirely unheeded. The starburst of light and heat built up in his core, and he knew what was coming.

Well, knew he was coming.

His hands squeezed against her head of their own accord, he couldn’t help himself. Couldn’t help anything he was doing in that moment, from the heavy wheeze of his breathing, to the punctuated moans that vibrated in his throat, to the random shuffling of his feet, to the clench of his fingers, to the stretch of his neck. He curled his head forward, his shoulders straining, and he opened his eyes.

And what he saw blew him apart.

It was as if he were looking through a tube - the sides of his vision had gone black and blurred, and within that lit circle he saw Joline’s face. And what’s more, he saw what he at that very moment considered was the most erotic, most gut-wrenchingly beautiful thing he’d seen in his entire life.

Joline’s lips embracing, pillowing his cock - red, flushed, and swollen; and her eyes - oh, God, her eyes - blown black and wide, staring at him, zeroed in upon his face, and his face alone.

Reveling in his moans.

Willing him to release.

Demanding of him to come.

Watching him. Watching him as he watched her. Watching him as his face went through a series of uncontrollable contortions of pleasure - his lips curling with every stroke of her tongue, his jaw dropping, sliding forward with every slide of her slick lips against his tender skin. He knew what she was seeing. He knew what she was doing. He knew.

And when she hummed a little “hmmm mmmm,” over his flesh, when she gave him a small nod, when she fluttered her eyelids in a slow, deliberate blink, when she curled her fingers behind his balls, and when she pressed her tongue firmly upon the underside of his length, he knew.

He knew she would take him, all of him, and that she would take him gladly.

“J-J-Jo-Joline! Ah!

And what she reveled in, what she willed him to do, what she demanded of him, and what she watched for – he, his entire being shaking and convulsing, gave her.

*******

Ansgar couldn’t help but smile. And that smile seemed to remain firmly plastered to his face. A rather stupid smile, he knew, but he was on a natural high. He was giddy. He felt loose and happy and a bit reckless after Joline’s, ahem, relaxation technique.

“You are a wanton woman,” Ansgar leaned down and whispered to her, tucking a wayward, just-been-fucking strand of hair behind her ear as they walked back toward the food trucks. “Sucking me off like that, on my brand new car, out in the open, in the car park. You ought to be ashamed of yourself.”

She grinned up at him, a wry, tight lipped half smile. “I most definitely should be ashamed,” she replied, her tone rife with sarcasm. “Ashamed I hadn’t done that sooner. I don’t know how you could possibly be seen with me.”

“Hm,” Ansgar moaned, and, with a small chuckle, he pressed a kiss to her temple. He turned his gaze back toward the main music stage as they continued through the crowd, giving her hand a small, tight squeeze. “I wonder if anyone saw us,” he murmured.

“What if they did?” She bit her lower lip, her eyes fluttering. “What if someone was… watching us?”

He exhaled audibly, his jaw jut forward, showing his white bottom teeth, fighting the renewed twitch in his crotch. “All the better,” he growled, his eyes flicking down toward her chest. “All the fucking better.”

“Oi! Jo-Bo!”

Ansgar felt Joline’s hand clench in his, felt the pull through his arm as he kept walking and she stopped in her tracks. “What… Elias?” Her head jerked upwards to Ansgar, flushing hot and confused. “What are they doing here?” She hissed.

“Shh, darling,” Ansgar turned to her, taking her other hand in his. “I invited them.”

Her eyebrows shot up. She pulled her hands from his. “You did what? When?”

Shrug. “I texted Elias last night. I’ve something I need to discuss with him, and I thought the opportunity would arise quite nicely here. Besides,” he said, gripping her shoulder, “the boys are going to be starting at my STEM camp come the Monday, why not let them meet some of their instructors?”

“Yes, but my brother!” she hissed, teeth clenched. “He doesn’t know about… about….”

“About what, darling?” He batted his eyelashes, a playful, quasi-innocence writ large upon his features.

“About… Oi! Elias!” She whirled around as her brother and his family approached within earshot. She flashed Ansgar a quick, dirty look before stepping forward and enfolding her brother in a warm embrace.

“’Ello, Jo!”

Ansgar greeted the boys, giving each of them a firm, solid handshake and addressing them each by name. He then turned to Elias’ wife. “Leah,” he said warmly, taking her by the upper arms and pressing small, quick kisses to either side of her face. “So good of you to come. You look absolutely radiant.”

“Thank you,” she blushed. “Do you honestly think my boys would let us ignore an invitation like this?” She gestured around them, to the circus-like atmosphere of the picnic.

Ansgar gave them a wink. “Smart men,” he said.

“Herr Martinsson,” Elias stepped slightly in front of his wife, holding his hand out to Ansgar. “Thank you for the text. I… it was unexpected and appreciated.”

“Ansgar. Please,” Ansgar said. “Call me Ansgar. You must. We are friends after all.” He took Elias’ hand, gripping it tightly. He covered Elias’ hand with his other one, holding not only the man’s appendage, but his attention as well. “And it is my pleasure. I figure your boys will be working for me someday, so why not start their indoctrination early?”

Elias laughed nervously, and then turned his attention back to Joline, smacking her on the shoulder. “You all right then, Jo? You look a bit peaky.”

Joline swallowed, gave a weak smile, and nodded. Her eyes flicked up to Ansgar again, the butterflies flapping their wings in earnest in her stomach. “Yeah, I’m fine,” she said. “Just… just didn’t expect to see you here, that’s all.”

Ansgar clapped his hands together loudly, holding them near his chest, as he surveyed the family. “You,” he pointed to Leah, “look as if you would like one of those American funnel cakes, over there,” he indicated. “And the boys both seem hungry for some cheeseburgers, double chocolate ice cream and a lemon squash!”

The twins cheered loudly and, like baby birds, begged at their mother’s skirt for the sweets so temptingly dangled before them.

“And you, Elias,” Ansgar stepped over to him and wrapped an arm around the other man’s shoulders. “I suspect you could use a beer. How about it?” He cocked his head toward the windowed white VIP tent. “Join me?”

“Um… Ansgar?” Joline put on a wide, false smile, speaking through her teeth. “What - are - you doing?”

“Joline, darling. Why don’t you show Leah and the boys some of the midway games, over there? Would you do that while Elias and I go have a chat? Yes? You will? Oh thank you so much. There’s a lamb.”

And before Joline could answer, before she could protest, before she could even lift a negatory finger, Ansgar had swept Elias away and toward the lure of a tall, cold glass of lager.

****

“Oh, Christ, but that’s good,” Ansgar lowered the large tankard back down to the table, licking the white froth from his lips. He wiped the back of his hand across his mouth. “Can’t beat a German doppelbock. Liquid bread, as the monks used to call it. Twice the alcohol and four times the flavor. Heaven on tap, man.”

Elias nodded, swallowing down a gulp of his own. He looked around the mid-sized VIP tent, at the tables laid with linen, at the massive, gleaming buffet of gourmet food that lined one side of it. “Leah would love this,” he said. “She’s a bit of a foodie, my girl. Likes her fine wines, too.”

Ansgar smiled and winked. “Thought that about her. Good taste, yeah? She seems like an amazing woman.”

Elias blushed. “She is.”

Ansgar set his glass down. He raised his hand to flag down the server. Catching her attention, he pointed at his empty glass and then Elias, and then signaled for her to bring two more.

And almost instantly, she did.

Ansgar lifted his fresh glass and took a long pull, watching as Elias did the same with his second heady dark beer. He rest his elbows on the table and leaned slightly forward, the warmth of the alcohol coursing through his veins. “Good job you gave me your business card the other day,” he said. “Hope you don’t mind but I did a bit of…” he rolled his eyes slightly, head bobbling, “research… on you.”

Elias grinned, and shrugged. “Yeah. I figured you would. I Googled you, as well. That’s a given.”

“Hope you weren’t too put off by what you found, mate.” Ansgar chuckled. “But you get to the point. I like that. Okay,” he said, leaning back in the chair, arms crossed over his chest, his forefinger working in circles against the ball of his thumb. “Listen. Here’s what I know. You’re brilliant with investments, You use your talent and financial acumen to predict the markets, to move the proverbial chess pieces about the board, to make your clients…substantial sums of money.”

“Substantial enough, I suppose,” Elias said. “My accounts don’t tend to be all that large. More high end personal investments and small businesses portfolios.”

Ansgar nodded sagely. “Of course. Of course.“ He raised a finger. “Let me share a bit of a secret with you.”

“I’m all ears,” Elias chuckled.

“I…,” Ansgar smacked his lips together, “am about to lose my key investment advisor for the London and Zurich markets. The dear woman, well, she retires come January, you see, and I honestly don’t know what I am going to do without her. I’d offered her the American markets as well - you know how lucrative those can be - and she turned me down flat. Said sorry but she was leaving me. She’s going to pack up and move to Malta, going to bask in the sunshine and spend time with, ugh,” he shuddered jokingly, “her grandchildren.”

Elias’s eyes went from tightly narrowed to momentarily blown wide. A flash. A quirk of the lips. A microexpression, the pages upon which Ansgar read that the man knew exactly what Ansgar was getting at.

And he liked it.

“Poor thing,” Elias joked. He took a long drink of his beer and cradled the tankard against his chest. “Grandchildren. So difficult.”

“Yes, poor thing,” Ansgar agreed. “But her pending apostasy leaves me in a rather sticky situation, you see. I’m desperate to find someone who has the know-how and the talent and the balls and the wherewithal to handle,” he pulled his lips down at the corners and shook his head, “millions - hundreds of millions of British pounds in transactions, the potential of hundreds of millions of US Dollars more in dividends. Someone who could appreciate,” he said slower, his eyes intent and focused upon Elias’, “at least, say… thirty, forty million Kronor per annum in commissions alone, not… not to mention a substantial salary and benefits.”

Elias blinked rapidly.

Ansgar smirked. “Know anyone who fits that description? Eh, Elias?”

“I, erm….posshibly,” he slurred.

Ansgar took a long, deep breath, and another swig of his beer. “I’m not going to make any offers right now,” he said. “We’ve time. I,” he shrugged, “I simply wanted to germinate the… the idea with you, give you something to ruminate upon, something we can explore in the interim, in a more… hm… businesslike setting. My office, perhaps? Next week?”

Elias frowned. “Are you… asking me to come in for an interview?”

“Precisely that.” Ansgar said, tapping his finger on the table. “But I want you to think about it first, talk it over with Leah and the boys, talk it over with your mother or your friends if you want, and maybe even with your current clients.”

“Why them? Why my clients?”

“Because you’ll have to give them up, of course,” Ansgar stated. “If I hire you as my investment adviser you are my investment adviser. You’d not only be overseeing the holdings for Martinsson Construction, but my personal portfolio, and that of my family - my brother and his daughter. I have a sizable fund set up for my niece in the American markets. I would need someone to keep a hawk’s eye on that.”

“Oh.”

“Think on it,” Ansgar said. “Maybe even talk to your sister about it. She knows me. She knows how I work.”

Elias’ face fell into an odd, unreadable expression. He kept silent for a long moment, and when he smiled, the light did not reach his eyes. When he spoke, his words were a whisper - not angry, but intent. “She knows how you… work, eh?” His eyes narrowed. “Does she now?”

The boys’ attention span shifted from begging for food to the next thing that caught their eye. Adrian tore across a spit of sand, Hugo a mere step behind, screaming as loud as their lungs could handle at the Harry Potter themed game they found. They nearly knocked several other guests and their kids over in their haste. For every ounce of enthusiasm they exuded, Joline felt anger and annoyance. Ansgar contacted her brother without telling her, without asking her. It was one thing to offer her nephews a workshop during their summer break, something quite removed from Ansgar personally. (She wasn’t exactly thrilled with that development either.) But it was quite another to invite most of her immediate family to an even without informing her. And it was something all the way not right to wander off drinking with her brother!

Infuriating arsehole! Goddamn him! He knew that she wouldn’t support the idea, let alone the activity of it.

Before she stomped after Leah to help wrangle the boys, she glanced in the direction of the VIP tent, wishing it would collapse entirely on Ansgar’s bloody thick, bold, arrogant, entitled head. Just his. Not her brother or anyone else in there. He had no business, personal or otherwise with her brother and she preferred it that way. Her partnership with Ansgar and their affair should be strictly between them, and it was precisely why she hesitated in agreeing to be his plus one for the corporate picnic.

She almost regretted it, if she hadn’t been having fun and enjoying the hell out of his relaxation techniques.

“Adrian! Hugo!” Joline called futilely after the overzealous twins, falling in step beside their mother.

“You’d think their birthday and all the holidays came all at once,” Leah glowed proudly, her gaze locked on her joys. “They slept all of two hours last night when Elias told them of today.”

Joline pushed aside her mood and her ire for one Ansgar Martinsson and smiled. “The event planners earned their pay without a doubt. Toys and games for the kids, alcohol and sedatives – probably – for the adults.”

Leah barely cracked a smile, she only wore that constant mild grin. She was the type that found her life’s purpose when she first became pregnant, the typical born to be stay at home mother, and it suited her. She was fulfilled by her family and thrived on their need and demands on her.

Adrian had picked up a wand and swung it around without much control or awareness of others nearby. Hugo brandished another wand and chose to dig into the play spell books inside the booth.

Predictably, Leah answered, “They deserve a little fun and be kids, yeah? They’ll sleep well tonight.”

Joline never related much to her sister-in-law. She didn’t dislike her, only found her bland, safe and tranquil, maybe a bit boring. She loved Leah because she was family and gave birth to two of her favorite people in the world. “Hey, boys! Hey, come give your Auntie Jo a hug! I didn’t get so much as hello out of you two!”

Neither one gave up their wands, but both ran over somewhat reluctantly, grumbling that they’d seen her just yesterday. The boys hugged her around her waist at the same time. She rubbed their backs affectionately. “I’m starving. How about you boys join us ladies for a burger and fries?” Jo cajoled temptingly, “First one to finish, picks the first ride!” She pointed towards the amusement section where the sound of giddy screams from the miniature rollercoaster blared in their direction. “How about that?”

Joline knew how to manipulate their short attention spans. The boys slammed their wands down where they found them. Adrian took his mother’s hand while Hugo took Joline’s and the boys pulled at them in the right direction.

Within minutes the boys shoved their burgers into their mouths at one table, while Joline and Leah sat one table away, eating more sensibly. “You’re good with them, Joline,” Leah complimented. It wasn’t the first time she’d said it, but it touched the other woman all the same.

“They’re my buddies. I adore every inch of them,” Joline shrugged, “as if they were my own.”

Leah reached across the table and rubbed one of her sister-in-law’s hands. “Thank you. They’re lucky to have you.” She patted her fingers along her arm. “Have you ever thought about… your own?”

Joline chewed slowly a french fry. It was a clichéd topic for a happily married mother of two to ask the somewhat wild single woman her plans for her womb. Leah was also the type to feel more comfortable with labels and categories. Joline decided to play along, “Thought about it, sure. The opportunity? Dwindling, I’m afraid.”

“You’re still young, Jo.”

Joline brushed it off again, lying to cover her own feelings on the subject. “I don’t think kids are in my future.” She was used to covering her regret and her desire for a child of her own. It’d become easier to lie than to face the truth, but her stomach ached for lying and for the longing that lingered since her divorce.

“We have news, Elias and me,” Leah spoke slowly. “As you already know, we’ve been trying to get pregnant for some time. It’s finally happened!” Her smile grew but her volume decreased to keep it private and just between them. “I’m pregnant. We went to hospital for confirmation, and we’re healthy!”

Each word felt like a dagger to another part of Joline’s body. The jealousy and the envy grew within her and it was difficult to find her own joy in it. Of course, she was happy for her brother and their family to have another addition, but she knew her own window of opportunity closing. “That’s… that’s wonderful!” she covered, pushing a smile to her lips. “It’d be… great to have another… little one around!”

Joline couldn’t help but feel used. The entire conversation hadn’t been about her, but about her sister-in-law revealing her secret to her. That only compounded her mood.

*~*~*~*~*~

Joline left the boys in Leah’s care by the earlier abandoned Harry Potter after riding the tilt-a-whirl, the rollercoaster and ferris wheel with them. She felt out of sorts, and she hadn’t seen Ansgar and her brother emerge from the VIP tent. She wandered aimlessly floating from one tent to another, tamping down the urge to barge into the beer tent just to sate her curiosity. What would keep Ansgar and Elias there for so long?

“That’s the one,” she heard whispered behind her at one of the vendor tables providing beads and lanyards to make jewelry. “She’s with him.”

Joline kept her head down, pretending to survey the size, shapes and colors of the charms to make a bracelet or necklace of her own. She hated the attention on her, and she carefully chose her moment to walk away. She tried to tune it out, to not let it expose her vulnerability.

She folded her arms under her breasts as she meandered back through the food area. People stuffed their mouths and couldn’t talk shit about her there. Until…

“Hey, there, Joline! Hey, hey!!” She heard the familiar pleasing tones of a friend from behind her.

Joline stopped and searched through the crowd for the source, for a reprieve.

Rosie in her white apron bounded up behind her, hooking her arm around Joline’s shoulders. “I thought you’d be here. Is it business or pleasure this time?”

Joline grinned at the first real friend since Ansgar took off with her brother. Her nephews were too wrapped up in the excitement to pay her much attention. “If only I knew…”

“Yeah, that’s par for the course.”

“Where you off to?” Rosie asked, meeting Joline step for step. “I’m joining you. Need a break from cooking.”

“You? That doesn’t sound right at all.”

“You’re right. I’m nosy,” Rose shrugged without apology. “You’ve caused quite the stir.”

The two women walked through the last throng of people hovering around the fresh fruit smoothie tent to the lawn outside. It was the perimeter of the party, and Joline still kept an eye on the big white tent in the middle.

“I suppose I have.” She allowed Rosie to see how the noise had affected her with a rueful sad smile.

“Hey, there! None of that. Buck up, you’re getting laid. I guarantee half these people aren’t. At least not with another person.”

Joline tried to laugh, tried to let Rose’s humor chase away the negative bits of her afternoon. It hadn’t been all bad. She did enjoy getting Ansgar off in the carpark… until he took off with her brother. “How do you do it?” she asked suddenly without realizing she’d spoken one of the questions swimming in her head.

“How do I do what, honey?” Rose scrunched her chef’s hat off her head and started untying her apron to help her feel a little more human.

“The attention,” Joline sighed. “You’ve Michelin stars and restaurants and clients of your own. That comes with its own set of responsibilities to live up to. I’m not sure how to act with… with this.” She indicated the party with her palm shoved in the general direction of attendees.

Rose chuckled and flippantly replied, “I suppose the money helps…”

Joline stopped and faced Rosie, who in turn, stopped too. Hands on her hips, Joline cocked her leg out to the side, putting most of her weight on the other. “I don’t get a bonus… monetarily,” she snuck in quickly when she saw Rosie about to drop in another sexual reference. “I’m not sure I can do this. These fancy to-dos, I’ve always been removed from them… at the theatre, I mean. As house manager, even though I plan these events, I’m not really involved, other than looking to make money for the theatre.”

Rose looked at her new friend with compassion, “You’re unsure because this is personal… and you like him.”

Escape: To Salvation Ch: 20

Blake X Val

Summery: Blake wakes up in the hell town known as Templegate. confused and alone he must fight through both his past and present for his future. however, hallucinations of festering demons haunt him along with something else more of mortal blood. now he must fight to keep his nightmares and reality separate or succumb to the deadly wilds. however is he truly as alone as he feels in this world?  

status: complete

rated: M - fowl language, sensitive topics, and gore

previous chap: Escape: To Salvation CH:19

next chap: END

_____________________________________

~Ch:20 Salvation~

“whats wrong?” Val asked, noticing his sudden stress. “they know we're here.” Blake spoke with inner dread rising. Rushing over to peek between the window curtains. Seeing many in swat gear swarming around the hotel. “fuck, fuck, fuck!” Blake breathed, panicking on what to do. Val remained seated. She was just as aware of the situation from Blakes expressions. “maybe we could go through the bathroom window?!” he whispered. “there is none.” Val stated, remaining calm. The two standing silently at the sound of a knock at the door. “... go hide.” he mouthed to Val. “i cant leave you to them.” she whispered. “please.” he mouthed again, desperately trying to shoo her away to hide. She looked at him sadly before going off with all the food and supplies to hide in a closet. He waited till she was fully hidden to slowly open the door. Seeing a man standing there in a full black suit with dark rimmed glasses. The man wasint very bulky with a thin tall figure. Being the same age, if not younger, then Blake. Behind him were two long walls of huge swat men leading up to the back of an Armored vehicle. “Blake Langermann?” the man asked again, the same voice from the phone. “...yes.” Blake mumbled sadly. “i am FBI agent James Cale. We're here to transport you.” the man said, holding a ID up for Blake to study. Despite wanting to contact the FBI he never did. Them racing to his doorstep with armed men being a screaming red flag to him. What if this was a Murkoff trick? What would be the point though, since shooting him now would mean less steps. “uhh … okay.” he said, carefully stepping out. Slowly closing the door behind him. “we know there are two of you.” the man stated before Blake could fully close the door. Blake swallowed nervously, really not wanting to get Val involved. Especially if this was a trap, but they could just beat the door down to grab her. “shes … not good around strangers. … especially armed ones.” Blake stated slowly, standing in front of the small amount of open door. “understood. we'll try to make you some room, but we cant spread the wall too much or it would hinder both your safety.” the man dipped his head down. Blake slipping back inside to fetch Val. Running over to carefully open her closet in case she had a weapon ready. “Val, i think its the FBI.” he told her. “you sure?” she asked. “they didint barge in and shoot us down.” Blake shrugged. Taking Vals hand tightly to lead her out. The two walking closely together out the door. Blake no longer seeing the FBI agent James. The space between the line of guards was opened by a couple feet on each side. All of their backs facing toward the two. Cautiously walking down the aisle of guards to the truck. Seeing James sitting at the very back on one side. Slowly the two stepped up into it to sit down at the far back opposite to James. Once seated, two guards hopped in to sit at the very front by the doors. Two other guards shutting the double doors from the outside. “... where are we going now?” Blake asked hesitantly. “a safe house, where you can rest safely. We also need to debrief you on how much you know.” James answered. “how'd you know about us?” Blake questioned. “we've recently started investigating some activity from Murkoff around here. We were slow to act as we wanted to surprise the remaining Murkoff owner. However she got passed us along with much of the facility information. We swarmed the labs and Templegate, managing to arrest many of the remaining workers packing. Some of them mentioned you two as they were questioned. A while later some of our watchers saw you two pop out of the woods. Sounded like Murkoff wanted you two really dead.” James answered, showing a picture of Zandra. “we had a run in with her.” Blake spoke down at the image in his hands. Val flinching as the van started up. Having everyone else tense at her reaction. “any idea where she went? We've been on her heels forever, but never managing to catch up.” James asked curiously. “no, sorry.” Blake answered sadly, handing back the photo. “i don't think it'll help, but I got this journal from the Templegate leader when Murkoffs experiment was going. Its been ruined by water though.” Blake said, handing the agent knoths journal. Trying to calm Val slightly after the journal was taken. Blake growing nervous as guards looked in her direction and looking ready to react. “we mite have something that can pick up the pen indents despite the smearing. Not all of it mite be savable, but maybe it'll piece together a bit of Murkoffs ideals here.” James spoke, flipping a little through the book before slipping it in a tightly sealed bag. Marking the bag with numbers using a black sharpie. “... is she okay?” James asked at the sight of Val. “shes ... from Templegate, ... like actually lived there for her whole life. Shes very unused to motor vehicles aside from farm tractors. This is actually her second car ride in history.” Blake admitted. He wasint sure if it was best for them to know that she was an experiment. However he knew they couldn't introduce her into society without higher help in the system. Explaining why she was acting so twitchy would make her less likely to be surrounded by armed guards. “oh, does she have any experience out of Templegate?” James asked, both interested and concerned. “no, a small taxi ride and a cheese burger was pretty much it. I am absolutely sure she doesn't have basic records like a birth certificate. That's why i am even telling you this.” Blake spoke. “hmm, ill let staff know. Processing her into modern society is going to take a major rehabilitation schedule. Think she'll do well for a physical? We will have to take blood, finger prints, and other identifying marks for a proper certification.” James asked. “as long as i am there, maybe. She really hasint had a good record with others.” Blake said, pressing on the fact of him being there for the testing. “can she talk, or read and write at all?” James asked. “yes, she can do all of that pretty well. Just not now while we're in the car.” Blake answered, trying to calm Val down a bit more. Her breathing getting greatly uneven. “at least that gives us a pretty head start on communication ability. We've had to do many rehabilitation of all kinds. The ones that lack a voice or basic reading skills are the hardest. Murkoff has caused the most of worse cases coming in.” James said sadly about the situation. “did you guys help with Eddie Gluskin's rehabilitation?” Blake asked curiously. “oh yes, and Waylons. One needed drastic rehabilitation for society and both for medical. I assume you were all over reading about the cases of those two.” James smiled slightly. “iam a reporter, that was the biggest news anyone's every gotten on TV before. Especially all the court cases after.” Blake smiled back. “the one good thing about all this is the governments got a good rehabilitation system made by now. I am going to give you two, very important, cards that you must keep at all times. These are temporary and should be replaced later after your settled with more secure cards. These will be like IDs that make sure you two wont be separated.” James said, tapping the metal wall next to them. A small bin unlocking to open up with a key board and a mini printer beside it. James grabbing two white pieces of thick cardboard, slipping them into the printer. Typing some thing down onto the small printer screen. “whats her name?” James asked. “val, no last name that i am aware of.” Blake answered. “can she borrow your last name? Its easier for record keeping.” James asked. “uh, yeah.” Blake answered, feeling strange that a person he wasint married to having his last name. James typing in a bit more. Pressing a final button before the two cardboard pieces printed out fully laminated with a bar code, a line of blue coloring with basic information about the twos looks. “do not lose these. It'll be a lot of paper work to replace. The more official cards will contain much more data like her rehabilitation schedule, Medical info, etc. I assume your close, but I don't know if you'll like to be in charge of her. We can have someone else hold her personal records if you don't-.” James offered, handing the cards over. “no, I want to be involved with everything.” Blake interrupted while taking the cards. Wanting to make sure his stance was clear. “ will you be with us when we stop?” Blake asked, growing nervous at all the new info. “only to inform you on where to go and whats going to happen. I have a really important meeting about this to higher ups. Digging up Murkoff facility's is extremely important to us. If we keep this up Murkoff mite not have any facility's in the USA soon.” James smiled. The two talked for quite a long time. Going over what Blake needed to do once they reached the facility. The armored vehicle driving through a heavily gated area into a guarded garage where they were dropped off. Val leaping out as soon as the guards moved. Breathing in large amounts of air as she calmed down. Blake standing by for her to catch her breath. “follow me, ill get you set at the front desk.” James smiled, walking slow as Val was still calming down from the ride. “they'll set you both up for a full medical examine. Any concerns or old injury's please tell the doctors about them. After medical they'll assign you proper cards, room and boarding. that only you two will share. That should be it for today. Tomorrow someone will drop by to help you further.” James explained as he brought them to the window. Giving a few instructions to the worker there. Handing off the bagged journal to an archiver. “thank you.” Blake smiled to him. Starting the process they had to go through. The medical examine giving them properly updated medication for any disease exposure. Wounds were cleaned, bandages set, in the end Blake felt better then he had in a long while. Things were looking up for them both.

_________________________________________ 4 months later somewhere far off in a different state. Were two, 2 story white houses in the middle of the golden grass country. Empty hills as far as the eye can see and one long dirt road the two houses shared. The two houses having a good space of 6 blocks away from each other. One being at the very end of the shared dirt road and the other being closer to the main tar road. The sun shone through the windows to blare down on the sleeping form in bed. “uugh.” Waylon groaned as the sun burned his tightly shutting eyes. Stretching in bed before groggily getting up to dress in new clothes. Heading through a side door way into an office like area with a computer, cabinets filled with files and sticky notes on a white board with messy writing all over. After booting his computer he looked to one wall covered in strange objects. A broken mask with old blood stains remaining of what was left of john Barker. Multiple letters from Beth on how well her family was doing since their separation from the FBI quarters. His sons report cards, and just bills. after him and Eddie escaped mount massive, the apple town, managed to reach FBI, avoided Eddie going to jail after all those court hearings, and entered their protection things had been going well. Waylon got back into security coding, using a different name of course. Making good money enough to afford what was needed to live comfortably. He headed down the stairs, passing Eddie cooking in the kitchen. “morning darling.” Eddie happily spoke, getting a half awake mumble back from Waylon. Which was the normal response. He was never a morning person and Eddie was always the early riser of the family. Waylon walked down the little stone path to their mail box. Collecting the days mail before heading back inside. “what did we get? Eddie asked as he set a plate of breakfast down. “another letter from Beth. Bills and the usual 20 letters from news reporters.” Waylon said, looking through the thick stack. Spam or letters from the news stations were immediately trashed. “you think after not answering them for 3 years they'd stop.” Waylon spoke as he opened bills first. “they certainly didint stop at first when we had that FBI sniper in our yard.” Eddie chuckled as he sat down with his own breakfast. “that whole situation was just awful, cant believe it got so bad.” Waylon muttered as he ate some bacon. “they really wanted pictures of our wedding. I cant blame them for trying.” Eddie spoke before eating a bite of pancake. “cant get good pictures while pretending to be an empty cardboard box. Glad that agent kicked him in the face when he found him. You got Noah up for the bus right?” Waylon asked, realizing it was way past the school pick up time. “yes, don't worry love.” Eddie nodded. “crap, I still need to tell artisan about the parent conference at school in a few days. Keep forgetting about that.” Waylon growled at himself. “it is almost afternoon, hes probably awake by now if you want to go talk.” Eddie spoke, taking another bite of food. “after breakfast, before I start on work.” Waylon answered, eating some food. Feeling grateful that artisan adopted his son. It definitely prevented his son from getting harassed for interviews since artisan wasint connected to them. Most just saw him as the old neighbor caring for his grandson, while just so happening to live next to crazy famous people. Also prevented teachers from jumping down Waylon and Eddies throats on how “unstable” the two were to be caring for a kid. Eddie especially would be a target of aggression at parent teacher meetings. Most didint want to get involved with him, while others tossed accusations for 15 minutes of fame. Any slight movement toward them would have caused all sorts of hysteria about how he tried to “murder” them. Adding onto that pile was all the massive scaring they bared. Looked as if they were tossed through world war 3. Waylon had metal rods for half a rib cage. A pale patch on his face from where it was skinned and replaced at a hospital. Smaller or larger scars from grenade shrapnel a Murkoff employee threw at him. Knife wounds from self mutilation during his Murkoff engine panic attacks. Eddie being just as bad. Old wobbly scars on half his face from testing, other side having that large L scar. A massive scar going along to over his spine from scraping a sharp river rock. Two circular scars from his impalement. A thick long line in the middle of his stomach from when Barker stabbed a ton sword through his gut that took a bulldozer to remove. And both having multiple bullet wounds here and there. The massive governmental FBI therapy helped wound recovery. Especially with Eddies rebuilt stomach system needing a strict diet. Very rarely did the two go out, especially not Eddie. Many were aware of his famous background and Waylon didint want to risk Eddie being accused of something vile for some asshole to get famous on the news. Waylon went to only get basic needs such as grocery's. For most other things artisan was happy to go for them. Which Waylon greatly appeared as one less stressful thing. Waylon was still incredibly paranoid of people. Anxiety making him confuse faces for Murkoff workers he used to know. Therapy helped him cope better, but still not entirely. It greatly helped Eddie on the other hand. He grew less aggressive about many subjects and got help for his old family PTSD. “FBI is here.” Eddie spoke seriously. Seeing the recognizable armored van pull up. Making both tense at the sudden visit after a few years had passed without them. Deep inside they were also paranoid of it being Murkoff, although they havint dealt with those monsters since their escape. It parked in front of their house. A knock soon being heard at the front door. “ill get it.” Waylon sighed as he stood from the table. Walking over to a speaker intercom by the multiple lock covered door. “what?” Waylon asked a little aggravated. “agent James Cale. We need to sit down for a serious talk Mr. park.” James spoke, holding up his badge to a security camera outside the door. Waylon didint answer at first while studying the badge thoroughly. Grumbling as he slowly unlocked the door. “come in.” he said neutrally. He always hated the FBI visits when they happened. They always carried bad news with them it seemed. “thank you.” James spoke as he followed behind to the living room. Waylon sitting tensely on the couch opposite to the one James sat on. Already feeling emotionally tired from thinking what the news was. “FBI has a proposal for you. We want you to join a team to infiltrate a Murkoff facility.” James spoke as clearly as he could. Getting a wide eyed expression of surprise from Waylon. “WHAT?!” Waylon shouted. Getting the attention from Eddie in the nearby room. Which the agent didint want to start out with. Sure, Eddie was less aggressive toward strangers, but as soon as Waylon didint like them, he certainly didint either. “easy, let me finish. Please, just let me get it out.” James begged, already becoming nervous under Eddies death gaze from the other room. Swallowing at Waylons own death gaze on him as well. “a little while ago we raided another Murkoff facility in an attempt to capture the remaining owner. You know how long we've been after her. We feel with all your knowledge from working under and facing Murkoff, you can lead a team to capture her. Together, of course.” he blurted the very last bit to keep Eddie pacified on possible thoughts of separation. “look, we barely got away the first two times. When I hacked Murkoff, they caught me. What makes you think we can lead a team?” Waylon stated, already feeling half done on this conversation. “you were caught, yes, but you actually hacked them. And still manage to hack them for us when we ask you to. Nobody on this case knows as much as you two do about Murkoff. About their facility's, records, the experiments they do. You had a massive inside experience that we cant get anywhere else. All others are too damaged to help or are found in a body ditch. We have been setting up a team for a while now. Despite your answer the task is going to work. I want to mention that there are two specific people on the team. With very similar cases like yours. Both were trapped in a massive Murkoff experiment. One was a healthy outsider, the other was an extremely aggressive patient. After a facility fallout they escaped and fought or hid from Murkoff till they made it to a city where we picked them up after a raid. They've shown massive leaps in therapy and helped us with tracking down the Murkoff queen. They were on board with this huge operation. With how they are, we helped them be more prepared for field duty, but we need someone for the inside, with technical capabilities like yours. A hacker basically, and don't worry about supplies. We wont be sending you off with just a bagged lunch and a good luck card. We will thoroughly be training you with the team and getting you fully armored gear specially fitted for you and what ever else you ask for.” James explained. “do you think you'll come on board for this operation?” James asked. “no.” Waylon answered with no hesitation. “wha, why not?!” James asked. “do I have to do it?” Waylon asked. “no, but are-” James started. “then hell no.” Waylon repeated more firmly, getting up from his seat. Completely done with the conversation. “wont you think about it?! Please Waylon, this is extremely important! You cant just-.” James spoke in urgency as he followed Waylon. Knocking into the wall of muscle known as Eddie who stepped between them. “oh, uh, hi. Eddie, Gluskin, AH! PARK, SIR-!” James blurted nervously. Remembering too late that Eddie had a different, one he less hated, last name. After getting officially married, Eddie took Waylons last name. He never wanted his darling to have the stained name of his monstrous father. This mistake only had Eddie grow more aggressive toward the shorter agent. Walking into him to force him back with a intense glare from his cold eyes. “uh, Waylon. Waylon? Waylon?!” the agent shouted urgently as Eddie kept aggressively forcing him back. Finally grabbing him to literally throw him out the door into the dirt. Slamming the door shut with a huff. “waylon, please think about this. We really need your help on this. Its a mater of national security at this point.” James pleaded from outside as he got up. Waylon opening the door to face him from the entrance. “why an issue of national security?” the words having peaked Waylons interest. “its gotten far too big for the united states. You know how Murkoff had a facility in the arctic, how they have places in different country's. Well, some of those country's don't want to get rid of Murkoff. They make weapons for them. More advanced then what our military finding. … we believe Murkoff is making newer and bigger facility in those protective country's. We have to move now and cut off the head of this or its going to be impossible.” James spoke seriously. “... why cant you just destroy the facility like all the others?” Waylon asked. “country's wont let us. They'll take it as an invasion and get a WW3 on our hands.” James answered. “so technically, the small team I would be in, would be invading a country?” Waylon asked. “in a way … there's a small up coming window. The remaining Murkoff owner is going to a facility in south America. I cant say the details on where out here. Our leak says this is the last facility on this side of the earth. If we don't catch her then. Then things are going to get worse and we wont have another free pass like this again. You have a week to decide. After that you wont be able to get on board. … this is getting bigger then a lot of us Waylon, and id think about your sons future if I was you.” James spoke, wiping a bit of dirt off before heading back to the armored vehicle. Waylon watched him leave down the road before slowly closing to lock the door. Letting out a nervous breath of air he hadn't realized he was holding. “you okay?” Eddie asked, concerned. “yeah, just stressed.” Waylon answered. “Are you really thinking of going to face Murkoff again?” Eddie asked. “... maybe. We've already taken most of them out. Might as well finish what we started so long ago.” Waylon breathed.

___________________________________________

Scenic Route 36/47

Read on AO3 : https://archiveofourown.org/works/18268208/chapters/43229774 

Start over : https://elopez7228.tumblr.com/post/620919089893933056/scenic-route-0147

***

Syed felt like the situation was getting out of control, an idea that she hated. The morning came and went with no sign of the Millennium Falcon. She worried that the car escaped at dawn, before the barricades were put up.

She searched the town with Saul, who decided to join her after their call that morning.

According to Saul, Kylo took off the other night without answering his phone. He never came back to the hotel and his pickup was found vandalized in the parking lot of the venue. He was relieved to find that Syed was still there, with Skylar in tow. Saul wanted to know if Kylo was safe—given the nature of the mission, he’d suspected that Earth Soldiers had somehow managed to abduct their leader.

Syed acted surprised, saying that she and Skylar had no idea because they decided to spend the night together at a local motel, just like old times. Saul better come and help them look for Kylo.

Saul showed up immediately. The three of them set off, Saul and Skylar piling into the SUV while Syed took Saul’s grey Ford for a change.

Luckily for Syed, Saul asked few questions and believed everything they told him. He also hadn’t talked to Kylo himself recently. The last update he remembered was that Rey was an Earth Soldiers activist that Syed had been assigned to track.

These days it was more accurate to say that Rey was nothing but a blundering tourist and Kylo was the fraud that Snoke wanted Syed and Skylar to hunt down.

But maybe Kylo had gotten to the others first? He was certainly spending a lot of time with the girl these days but he could have still called them...

Stricken with doubt, Syed turned to look at Saul, who was sitting in the passenger seat. Perhaps not unlike his biblical namesake, Saul had strong brows and a slightly aquiline nose, with a matte olive complexion and sharp eyes. She would have found him attractive under different circumstances.

But right now she had to be cautious.

He didn’t look nervous to be there, if he was anxious it was probably his eagerness to find Kylo Ren. Saul had left him countless unanswered voice messages, finally taking to the streets when all else failed. Did he really think he would just randomly run into Kylo at a Starbucks, sipping on a double shot cold brew like always?

Syed was sure Kylo out there in the Millennium Falcon, and that they were already losing time...but she didn’t have the energy to fight anyone this morning. She knew she would have to come up with one hell of an excuse to get Saul to mangle Kylo instead.

“Why don’t you make yourself useful?” She hummed dryly, “Call up all the campsites around Bozeman and ask them if they’ve had any guests driving a maroon Oldsmobile Cruiser.”

Saul complied wordlessly, googling a series of numbers to call. At least he wasn’t dead weight anymore.

Running out of ideas, she drove back into town, half-hoping she would get a lucky call from the police. Circling back to the parking lot, she somehow ran into Shakti, who was busy having Kylo’s pickup hauled away with a tow truck.  

“Hux’s orders,” Shakti explained.

"Where’s Kylo?” Syed asked, trying her best to sound natural.

“No clue, it’s not like I’m his babysitter. Maybe he’s still hunting that Earth Soldiers agent from a few days ago.”

They smiled sweetly at one another, neither woman falling for the lies of the other, neither one able to determine how much Saul really knew. Once again Syed found herself forced to keep up pretenses, lest she be outnumbered and unprepared.

As she drove off, she realized that Shakti’s SUV was nowhere in sight. Did Kylo take it? If so, he could be anywhere by now, they would have to expand their search.

It was high time to call Skylar, but Syed’s attempts went straight to voicemail. Strange. He knew he was supposed to stay close at a time like this, so what the hell was the idiot playing at?  

“I got a hit,” Skylar announced triumphantly. “Canyon Campground. They saw the car yesterday afternoon but she left before dawn.”

“Oh, fucking hell.” Syed swore, “she must have left before they put up the barricades—Let’s go!”

Rubber screeched against concrete as the SUV sped up, making its way to Highway 89 without heeding the speed limit.

“Either she left Bozeman entirely before the cops and we’re fucked, or she’s trapped somewhere between here and the next barricade. Keep an eye out!”

Saul shrugged silently. He turned to the window again, concentrating on the road. He jerked when Syed made a sharp right, driving onto a winding side road.

“What’re you doing?”

“Looking. She must have hidden the car. She can’t have made it to the border, she can’t be at any of the checkpoints because the authorities would know. We need to search the woods, but not the mountains, her car can’t off-road.”

The descent along East River Road was slow and full of bends and curves, but Syed had regained some determination. She was tired of  the aimless wandering, now she was finally back into action  

Suddenly, she slowed down, stopping the car. A dozen paces behind her, was the tell-tale gleam of something metallic, glistening in the sunlight through the trees. It could have been a divider, or a random pile of garbage. But she was transfixed.

She walked back along the path, looking for a way in, groping blindly against the trees, until—

Oh fuck. She took out her gun. There it was, she’d found the Millennium Falcon.

It was a good hiding place, under the pine canopy, out of sight and out of mind. But Syed had been smarter. She advanced carefully, reaching the front of the car before pulling her weapon on the girl inside.

“Get out, Rey Jakku!”

The door opened to reveal a blonde woman wrapped in a tattered shawl. She took a drag from a lit cigarette. Syed paled.

“Kelsi! What the fuck are you doing in—where’s the girl?!”

It dawned on Rey that she had been awake since 4 AM this morning, since the minute she had caught Ben Solo red handed. She had changed cars around 7 AM and had passed the barricaded checkpoint an hour and a half later. After a quick breakfast she was back on the road again. The new car afforded her an unusual amount of comfort: the seat was somehow firm and soft at the same time, and the GPS and cruise control let her body take a break. She had her phone plugged into one of the USB ports, and she was  blasting her music on high, listening to the same three KYLO & THE KNIGHTS OF REN albums for a week now.

Despite the comfort, she was tired. She had managed to stay awake all night in Ben’s loving embrace, stealing long sleepy kisses and chewing on his earlobe as he ran his fingers along her breast. That was just one of seemingly thousands of little sensual ways he had kept her awake after making love to her earlier. She’d lost track of time.

Then came the brutal awakening at dawn, followed by an emotional rollercoaster that left her unwilling to go back to sleep. But now, in the snug warmth of the car, watching the open road stretch forever, it occurred to Rey that driving twelve hours straight was maybe a little too ambitious.

She didn’t want to end up strangled by Syed...but it was hard to stay awake behind the wheel. BB8 was adorable, chewing quietly on her toys, but being a dog, she was a terrible conversationalist.

Speeding along Highway 20 on her way to Idaho Falls, Rey tried to focus on her surroundings. Cows grazing along hidden pastures, lots of little calves, a cowboy riding a horse along the edge of the road, waving a red flag. Rey contemplated pulling over. He was obviously trying to warn her, but why? As she reached the next turn in the road, she understood. A very large herd of cattle shuffled onto the road, led by another handful of cowboys with lassos. They were moving pastures.

Truthfully, Rey hadn’t been able to see all the things she’d wanted on this trip, but this was a sight to behold. This wasn’t a tourist trap or a carefully staged rodeo show, what she was witnessing was a real slice of American life in the mountains. It was more authentic than anything she could have hoped for. These were real cattle herders who lived off of the land.

It was fascinating to watch, though it slowed her down quite a bit. She consulted the time on her dashboard. How much time did she have? How long before Syed saw through the ruse and began following her in earnest? There was only one way to California from here: she would have to follow the path of the Rocky Mountain valleys to Nevada, and then take the Interstate 80 to Reno. Anxiety gripped her by the throat. With every turn she made sure to check for the foreboding grey SUV in her rear view mirror.

As the car crept forward, she texted Ben.

Any news of Syed? Did she find the Falcon?

His response didn’t take long.

I’m watching her, she’s still searching Bozeman for you. The Millenium Falcon is safe. Good luck.

Rey calmed somewhat, focusing on the road ahead. She would stop at noon and not a moment before.

The landscape became drier and flatter over time. The Rockies turned into desert plains. Rey took it all in, there was no way she would see a desert in England. Of course there were the moors, in Scotland or Dartmoor, but nothing as immense as this.

Despite her fatigue and her stress, she marveled at every detail: Fort Hall Indian Reservation, oversized billboards declaring the glory of the Bible, a pickup truck pulling an RV pulling a trailer home attached to a buggy advertising “free coffee at Casino, next exit”. There was so much here that didn’t exist in England, or even in Europe. She couldn’t take pictures, or share her thoughts with anyone, so she tried to engrave every detail in her brain and tell Jess, Poe and Finn everything when she came home.

At half past noon, she stopped at Ashton, Idaho. It was a place to let BB8 stretch her legs, and it was about time both of them had some food. She fed BB water and treats, deciding to find a sandwich for herself.

Eventually, Rey found a locally-owned diner that was very popular with truckers. The tables were covered in red and white gingham tablecloths and the menu was painted under the front counter in large white letters. Hamburgers, cheeseburgers, fried chicken...she would have sold her soul for a  leafy green salad. She ordered a fried chicken sandwich plate, minus the coleslaw on the side.

After lunch, she played fetch with BB8 for a while, gave her some water, took her on a potty break, and settled her back into the car. It was an hour past noon and Rey was drained. Maybe she could take a little nap? A short, twenty minute nap out here was better than falling asleep at the wheel. If she accidentally killed herself out there because of fatigue, she would please no one but Syed.

Leaning her seat back as much as possible, she put on her surpasses and closed her eyes.

Twenty minutes, maximum.

The sound of her phone vibrating woke her up.

Rey jumped, needing a few seconds to Denver where she was. In the Lincoln, somewhere in Idaho. Where Syed was still trying to find her.

What time was it?

Shit, 3 PM. She had been asleep for two hours.

“Shit, shit, shit,” she muttered as she let BB8 out for one final potty break.

“Hurry up, BB! We need to get out of here soon!”

She was glad that she had woken up somehow, but how? Her phone. She checked her phone, the message on the creek causing her blood pressure to skyrocket.

Syed found the Falcon, FORCE has been informed. She knows you changed cars and she’s looking for you. I hope you’re far away. I’m out on the road too. Be careful - Ben

“Oh, fuck.”

The nightmares were coming true, Syed was getting closer and Rey had wasted precious time napping like a sitting duck. How did secret agents have this much stamina? James Bond never fell asleep in the car.

"They probably snort coke", her brain whispered, "meanwhile you’re an idiot who thinks she’s Emma Peel."

Less Than Impressed - Billy Russo

Prompt: Hi Bandit! I’d like to start by saying your writing is phenomenal and I’m infatuated with your Billy Russo. I was wondering if you could write something where the reader is a paramedic who grew up friends with Frank and he told her all about Billy’s way with women. So when Billy and her meet he turns on the charm but she’s less than impressed. Also I was hoping there could be camping and specifically a camp fire....I’m not sure why I want the camp fire so bad— buttt pretty please! Prompter: Anonymous

This one... kinda did it’s own thing? But there’s definitely a camp fire? Haha. I hope you like it.

Tags are at the bottom. Let me know if you would like to be added to one of my tag lists!

*gif is mine*

Enjoy!

*****

“Drinks on me,” Frank offered as he settled down on the stool next to you. “You look like hell.”

“Well thanks Frankie boy,” you joked as you bumped your shoulder into his. “Work is kicking my ass. Being a paramedic in the city is a lot different from being one in the sticks.”

He laughed and flagged down the bartender to order beers for the two of you. You accepted yours gratefully and drained half of it in one go.

“Shit Y/N, you afraid it’s gonna disappear?”

You nudged your leg against his and leaned forward against the bar.

“Been a rough few days,” you said with a shake of your head. “I’m ready for our vacation though. Can’t believe it’s been a year already.”

Ever since you were kids, your family took vacations with the Castles at least once a year. Once you got older and your parents stopped the vacations, you picked them up with Frank. It was about a week with you, Frank, Maria, and the kids. Last year Curtis had joined and you’d all had a great time.

“Yeah, about that,” Frank said, drawing the words out in a way that made you groan.

“Please don’t tell me that we’re postponing. Do you know how hard it was to get a week off work when I’m relatively new here?”

Frank was quick to assure you that that wasn’t what he meant.

“Nah, not postponing. Just a slight change in plans?” He cleared his throat and turned to look at his beer, ignoring your narrowed eyes. “Maria and the kids got double booked for the week we’re supposed to go; she’s got this thing with her parents and they haven’t seen the kids in a while. So it’ll just be me, you, and Curtis.”

It wasn’t perfect because you would definitely miss Maria and the kids, but it could be worse. You opened your mouth to say that but apparently Frank wasn’t done.

“And Billy.”

You groaned. Then you lifted your beer to basically drain the rest of it. When Frank raised an eyebrow at you, you pointed at him and shook your head.

“If I have to spend a week with that man, you’re buying more than just the first round. Pull the wallet out big boy, I need whiskey.”

------

The first time you met Billy, you were prepared to be unimpressed. Frank had talked about his buddy from the service enough that you almost felt like you knew him. And while you didn’t fault Frank for his taste in friends, you weren’t particularly interested in meeting the guy.

He held his hand out to you for a handshake and you had sighed before you accepted it. He raised an eyebrow but didn’t say anything about your reaction.

That only lasted until later that same night when he was asking you a question and you seemed completely uninterested.

“Did I offend you somehow? Piss you off in a past life maybe?”

You rolled your eyes and leaned back in the chair you had claimed. Billy had hovered around you for a while, a familiar look in his eye that would have flattered you if you didn’t know what you knew about him.

“Don’t worry about it,” you said as you waved him off, effectively ending the conversation.

Or maybe not so effectively.

“No, c’mon, you’re acting like I’m a goddamn leper. What is it?”

You shrugged a shoulder as you looked over to where Frank was in deep conversation with Curtis.

“Listen Russo, I know all about you and your interests. To each their own,” you added because you didn’t judge him for his proclivities. “I’m just not interested in being a notch on a belt. You and me will get along just fine as soon as you stop flirting with me like I’m one of the many that’s just gonna kneel at your feet.”

A lot of emotions washed over Billy’s face before he landed on humor.

“Jesus,” he let out lowly, chuckling as he did so, “you don’t think much of me, do you?”

You sighed and turned to face him head on.

“I just wanna make sure that you’re aware of how this works. We’re each friends with Frank, but that’s it. So just go ahead and turn off the charm because it’s not gonna happen.”

He laughed and leaned back in his chair.

“Message received,” he said with a raise of his glass. Then he stood up and moved away from you.

------

The thing with Billy was that he didn’t turn off the charm, but you didn’t think it was completely directed at you. It was more just that that’s how he was.

And while yeah, you’d been a little rude that first night, you stuck by what you said. You weren’t impressed by a guy who probably couldn’t remember where his dick had been; the man-whore appeal had worn off back in college. And as an adult, you didn’t want that in your life.

“I didn’t tell you about Billy because I was trying to warn you,” Frank had explained a few weeks later when he finally heard about you going off on Billy at the party. “I just wanted you to know what he’s like. He flirts but it’s not serious. He wouldn’t try to get in your pants just because he knows how close we are.”

That made sense. Brothers in arms, it was kind of an unspoken rule that you didn’t mess with another Marine’s family. As far as Frank saw it, that included you.

“If he actually was serious, he wouldn’t flirt. He just gets really intense and withdrawn when he has human emotions,” Frank had added with a laugh. “As long as he’s flirting with you, you have nothing to worry about.”

You weren’t worried about that in the least.

------

“So sleeping arrangements,” you said as you dropped your pack on the ground next to where Frank and Curtis were unloading the rest of the equipment.

“Figured you and I can bunk in one tent, Bill and Curt can take the other,” Frank said as he gestured to where Billy was putting one of the tents together. “These tents aren’t really big enough for three people, but if you’d be more comfortable, one of us can take turns sleeping in the truck.”

“No worries pal,” you said with a smack to his arm as you walked over to grab the cooler. “We used to sleep in tents together back when we were kids, remember? You had a Superman sleeping bag.”

Frank laughed with a shake of his head.

“Shit, I almost forgot about that thing. Didn’t you fill it with mud one night?”

Curtis shook his head as he carried sleeping bags under his arms towards the tent Billy had put together.

“Stay away from my sleeping bag,” Curtis warned as he ducked into the tent.

Billy hesitated before he followed. You watched curiously and then turned to look at Frank. If he noticed his friend’s weird behavior, he didn’t say anything. Instead he grabbed the other tent and moved to where the ground was flat enough to put it together.

You couldn’t remember Billy saying more than a handful of words since you got in the car. It’d been about two hours from the city to where you were camping for the weekend, and he’d stayed quiet. It’d been up to Frank, Curtis, and you to keep the conversation going.

Maybe he had a lot going on at Anvil. Or maybe he was still hungover from being out the night before.

Later, after everything was put together, Frank looked around the campsite and swore.

“We need to get logs for the fire. Split up?”

You were about to head off with Frank when Curtis spoke up.

“Alright, me and Castle will go this way. You and Bill check the woods that way. Cool?”

Neither you or Billy had a chance to protest before Frank and Curtis headed into the woods. You looked over at Billy and frowned. He didn’t seem to care either way.

“You can just stick here,” he said with a gesture to the campsite. “Shouldn’t take us too long.”

You put your hands on your hips and leveled him with a glare.

“I’m not useless Russo. I can help gather firewood. Let’s go,” you said as you marched off in the direction Curtis had instructed.

But not before you saw Billy shake his head with a small smile on his lips.

After about twenty minutes of walking around and gathering wood, you glanced over at Billy. He had a huge armful but didn’t look to be in any rush to get back to the campsite.

He also hadn’t said anything since you’d headed into the woods.

“What’s going on with you Russo?” When he looked over at you, you shrugged your shoulder and explained, “You’ve just been quiet all day. I’m starting to get worried.”

He shook his head with a laugh.

“You don’t need to worry about me Y/N. I’m fine,” he added when you didn’t budge.

There was something else there, something under his words. He noticed that his voice had given a little too much away and he turned in the direction the two of you had come.

“This should be enough for now. C’mon, let’s get back,” he said with a jerk of his head.

You followed behind him, your eyes on his back when you weren’t watching where you were walking. He looked tense. You weren’t sure why it bothered you, but it did.

When you got back to the clearing, it appeared that Curtis and Frank had been even more successful than the two of you in their wood gathering. The fire they had built was closer to a bonfire than a campfire.

“Are we sacrificing virgins or something?” you mumbled as you trekked up beside Billy, rolling your eyes as you watched Frank and Curtis throw even more wood on the fire.

“Why,” Billy asked with a raised eyebrow, grinning at you, “know any virgins?”

------

You were one hundred percent unsurprised that Frank was the first person that required medical attention. Between you and Curtis, you were able to soothe the burn he’d gotten by reaching into the fire to fix a log like an idiot.

You were glad that Curtis had brought a pretty extensive first aid kit because you hadn’t even thought about it. Not that you could have taken anything from the ambulance without getting in trouble, but you had amassed a pretty good sized first aid kit over the years.

“You learn to be prepared when you’re around Marines,” Curtis said as he smacked the back of Frank’s head when he noticed him picking at the gauze on his hand. “Would you stop it? You’re gonna get sepsis and I’m not interested in doing a field amputation.”

“Don’t wanna relive the good old days?” asked Billy from the other side of the fire, long legs stretched out as he grinned at the three of you.

“You got a strange perception of good old days,” Curtis replied as he removed his gloves, taking yours as well to be disposed of.

You walked over to drop the rest of the supplies back into the kit. While you did that, you couldn’t help but notice that Billy was watching you. Not directly, but from the corner of his eye.

It felt like you were trying to put a puzzle together upside down without seeing the image first. Every little detail that you picked up wasn’t enough to tell you if you were right or wrong, but you were just doing what felt right.

That’s why you moved to sit in the folding chair next to Billy.

He raised an eyebrow at you and looked back at the fire.

“I think I misjudged you,” you said quietly, your words barely audible over the roar of the fire. “The things Frank told me made me jump to some assumptions. I haven’t been really fair to you because of it.”

He rolled his head to look at you, a smirk pulling at the corner of his mouth.

“You telling me you realized I’m not just out there trying to sleep with any woman that’ll stand still long enough?”

You were pretty sure he was quoting something you’d said about him once. With a wince, you turned to look at the fire.

“You’re alright Russo,” you said instead. “I think we should start over, be friends.”

He laughed, but not unkindly. You looked over at him with a raised eyebrow until he explained what was so funny.

“You wanna be friends. Okay,” he said with a shake of his head, his eyes looking orange in the firelight, “we can be friends. Just don’t go hitting on me, right? I’m immune to your charms.”

You laughed because that was what he was trying to do, make you laugh, but you still felt like you were looking at an upside down puzzle. Only now you were pretty sure you were missing some of the pieces.

------

The days passed pretty quickly. Frank snored so loud that you often woke him up by hitting him with your pillow. Sometimes the guys would go to the river to fish, sometimes you’d play cards or chess. You had a few books so you’d sprawl out and read while the guys got into heated discussions on which of them would survive in a zombie apocalypse.

“Fuck,” Billy swore as he gripped his hand, blood gushing from where he’d apparently stabbed himself while messing with a can opener.

You grabbed the first aid kit and waved Curtis off when he started to stand. You went over to where Billy had been moving the trash into a bigger bag.

“Let me see,” you said as you grabbed his hand. “Looks deep. C’mon, let’s get you cleaned up.”

You found a bottle of water and poured it onto his hand to wash away the blood and hopefully any dirt. Then you started to sort through the items until you found disinfectant.

“This is going to sting,” you warned as you opened the bottle.

“I’ve had worse,” he promised, voice low and soothing.

You didn’t doubt that. All three of the guys were covered in scars from their service. Hell, Curtis lost a leg. You knew they’d all had worse than what they’d receive out here, but you picked your job because you didn’t like to see people hurt and wanted to help any way you could.

He flinched a bit when you poured the disinfectant over his cut, watching it bubble. You dabbed the skin around it dry and checked it again.

“Don’t think you’ll need stitches,” you surmised as you inspected the injury. “How about some antibacterial and a bandaid? Maybe there’s some My Little Pony bandaids from when Lisa got hurt last year,” you teased as you looked up at him.

Billy wasn’t looking at his hand; he was staring at you. When your startled gaze met his, he nodded and then looked down at his hand.

“You know best,” he said simply.

Uncertain and a little off kilter, you fished through the kit until you found the ointment and some bandaids. You put the ointment on him carefully and then applied the bandaid, making sure that it wouldn’t bunch up when he used his hand.

“How’s that?”

You met his gaze once more and found yourself holding your breath. He made a fist and then lowered his hand.

“Better,” he promised with a nod. He looked down at the trash and then back at you. “I’m gonna finish up here. Thanks for your help.”

You barely could do more than give him a nod before you grabbed the kit and started to walk back over to your chair. You saw Curtis and Frank watching you curiously but you ignored them. Instead you dropped your stuff and looked around the clearing.

“I’m gonna go by the river for a bit,” you said with a jerk of your thumb in the direction of the path to the water. “Come and get me if you need me.”

They nodded and you spun around on your heel, trying not to look like you were making a retreat. A glance over showed that Billy was watching you leave.

------

Your shoes were beside you as your feet dangled into the water. You’d found a rock that was dry and that’s where you settled yourself. After the first few moments of silence, you’d taken your shoes off and dipped your feet into the cold water.

You didn’t have your phone and you’d left your watch in the tent, so you weren’t sure how long you’d been out there. It was getting dark, but there was enough light still that you didn’t feel like you needed to rush back.

Footsteps made you jerk your head up. You saw Billy come down the path. He looked for you and then made his way over to you. Once he was beside you on your rock, he removed his shoes and socks, rolling his pants up a little, and settled his feet into the water.

“You’ve been out here for a while,” he said as he looked out over the water. “Frank asked me to come check on you.”

That was strange; if Frank was worried about you, he would have come himself. When you mentioned that, Billy just raised his eyebrows.

“Do you know what Frankie told me about you before we met?” At your curious noise, he grinned and looked over at you. “He said that you were smart, driven. He actually said that you and me had a lot in common.”

It was on the tip of your tongue to be sarcastic and tell him you hadn’t slept with nearly as many women as he had, but you bit it back. You’d made progress with him and you didn’t want to undo it just because you were snarky.

Instead you thought about it and realized that Frank was right; the two of you did complement each other.

“I can see that,” you said with a nod, leaning back on your hands. “I guess I never thought about the things he may have told you about me.”

He nodded slowly, his eyes moving over your face.

“He also told me that you and me would be good together if we didn’t kill each other first.”

That drew you up short. Frank definitely hadn’t said anything like that to you.

“Good together? Us?”

“I don’t think he’s wrong,” Billy said with a shrug as he looked back out at the water. “The more I get to know you, the more I find myself wanting to be with you. Guess I’m just waiting to see how you feel about it.”

Huh. You found it hard to swallow, your mind racing. That puzzle you’d been imagining was suddenly flipped over, the image staring back at you in technicolor. It was this moment, you and Billy alone and being honest with each other for the first time.

And if you were going to be honest with him, you needed to be honest with yourself. You’d felt something for Billy but had discarded it as just physical attraction. But just like he said, the more you got to know him, the more you wanted to be with him. And then this trip?

The silence stretched on longer, but Billy didn’t look discouraged. He just continued to stare out at the water.

You remembered Frank from so long ago telling you that Billy got intense and withdrawn when he had human emotions. Intense was definitely a word you’d use to describe Billy and you’d obviously noticed that he’d been a little withdrawn this trip.

Huh.

“Billy?”

He turned his head to look at you and you leaned in, brushing your lips against his. The hand that you had bandaged came up to cup the back of your head as he kissed you back. When he pulled back, he was smiling at you.

“You’re not a notch on a belt to me,” he explained, his words bringing back your first meeting with him. “I just want you to know that before this goes anywhere.”

You hadn’t even thought that. You tugged on his shirt to pull him a little closer. The reminder of your first meeting had you grinning at him.

“Who knows, maybe in time you’ll have me kneeling at your feet.”

You’d said it in such a low, breathy voice that it was obvious what you meant by that. Billy gave you a wolfish grin before he tugged you into a kiss that made your body feel like it was on fire.

This was definitely not how you pictured this trip going, but you had to admit that you didn’t mind in the least.

------

When you and Billy got back to the campsite, you watched as Frank carried his sleeping bag towards the tent that Curtis and Billy had been in. From this vantage point, you could see Billy’s pack sitting just inside your own tent.

Billy squeezed your hand, grinning at you as he rolled his eyes. You looked over at Curtis and Frank who each wore shit eating grins.

“Just try to keep it down, alright? I didn’t bring ear plugs and there’s some things I just don’t wanna know about my best friends,” Frank said as he threw his sleeping bag into the other tent.

You were tempted to put on a show just to make him eat those words, but you just shook your head. Billy brushed his shoulder against yours and then pulled you along behind him and over to the chairs near the smaller fire that Curtis had started to make dinner.

You’d see how they were during dinner before you decided to be petty. After all, Frank was the reason you got this at all.

Maybe you’d borrow the car and get them both ear plugs to last the rest of the week. Just as a way to say thank you.

X

Let me know if you want to be added to my Permanent Tag List @hermioneshandbag @onebatch--twobatch @smiley-celine @blackcoffeeandgreenteaforme @starless-skyox @youveseen--thebutcher @citation-is-here @mightymelly @realduckvader @1550kilogramsofsilver @hxbbit @rockintensse @missphanosaur18 @thepuffyeyedpuff @the-three-eyed-ravenclaw @yessy2012 @gingerstarlight @siriusement @marauderskeeper @xinyourdreamsx @wickidlady @sassygirl25 @maraudereestauderelb @rainyboul @cutie-bug @random-quartz @holamor @lea----b @heyitslexy @detectivebourbon @coffeenmoscato @presstocontinue @elisemockingbird @assbuttwithwings @geeksareunique @siriuslovesmarlene @witch-of-letters @delicatelilyflower @l-l-c-m-w-b @whovianayesha @hiddenprincess @yannii04 @jeanettexkillian @brighteststarinthesky @kilyra @gallxntdean @sweetvengeancee @lady1505 @thedarklightwithinus @ateliefloresdaprimavera @siriuslyimmoony @elodieyung @fudgeflyss @madamrogers @thatwrestlingfan91 @teranya @sophiabulbu69 @delusionsofnostalgia @effielumiere @mamaraptor @hot-and-spiceyyy @i-padfootblack-things @aya-fay @fcavalerro @sithskywalkers @raquelbc2003 @iwishyoucouldbekissed @lostinthoughts23 @tamanamohain @newtstarmander @suchatinyinfinity @blushingskywalker @queencocoakimmie @funerals-with-cake @love-dria @arrowswithwifi @swiftyhowlz @cheyfleur @dark-night-sky-99 @margot-black @celestegolden @king4thesirens @beautifuldesastre @ashkuuuu @luminex3 @nerdypinupcrystal @iblogabout-stuff  @curlyhairedblueeyedangel @myplaceofheavenorhell @cafeconsoya @nea90sweetie @traeumerinwitzhelden @kryyta @russosprettydiamondnow @dorkybryan @mahalobro @yesixoxo

Let me know if you want to be added to my Billy Russo Tag List @something-tofightfor @piink-magnolias @hoodedhavok @aylinnmaslow @musingsofbanana @bluebird214 @rileyblues @nerrdstark @that-bwitch @ethereal-heavcns @queenisabella789 @colddecember-night @j-finco @arthoeaesthetixbs @tomhiddlestonsbeard @mischiefs-never-managed @romanceyour-ego @evyiione @drinix @sweetheart-im-the-boss @thebabblingbook @katieswinforddiaries @benbarnesfanforever @releasethekracko @itsjustmylifeconfessions @nostalgic-uncertainty @aveatquevale- @clarasworldofwonders @ladyblablabla @thehanneloner @hellostarposts @girlwhoisfearless @maria-beretta @friendlyneighbourhoodweirdo @marcelskittel @fictionwillneverdie @avipshamitra @hysteriadarling @living-on-rice @hello-la-v-en-rose @tiredofthisgeneration @marveliskindacool @giggleberts @stateofloveandvedder @encounterthepast @ironstank @spettrocoli @xserenax-13 @sleepwalkingelite @dreamingofonceuponatime @supernaturalcat7 @rosebunnie @damagelove @petersunderoos96 @dylanobrusso @littlemermaidprobz @agent-scully-182 @editboutique @audreychaz @songforhema @tngrayson @gollyderek @ilikebeachessushiandsmallanimals @fireeyes-on-teller-dixon-grimes @ania2603 @screwmesiriusblack @figlia--della--luna @balladblood @cloudywithachanceofcupcakes-blog @jessicahh @flightoftheflightrisk @slamharder @roschele

Three Jerks

Steve Rogers x Reader

Summary – After the Battle of New York, you decide to get away from the city for a vacation in the Caribbean. But one week away from the hustle and bustle of the Big Apple quickly turns into a few years as you find you enjoy the simplicity of island life. As it turns out, you’re not the only native New Yorker who finds solace on the white sandy beaches of Jamaica.

Warnings – Angst, Fluff, Sexy Times, Cursing, and Drinking

Word Count – 5K

Notes: This is a Canon Divergent fic based on Anthony Mackie’s response to a question at the ACE Comic Con in Seattle. If you’d like to watch the video, the entire panel discussion with Mackie, Sebastian, and Tom Holland is on YouTube. Fast forward to 1:03:50.

Clues: 

1. This author prefers writing angst more than anything.

2. This author is notorious for her cruel cliffhangers.

3. This author loves adding a good plot twist.

YN had noticed the three new additions to the lonely stretch of beach she’d called home for God only knew how many years. When she’d gotten off the clunky little prop plane at Sangster International Airport, she’d told the taxi driver to take her to the nearest beach bar. A half a mile later, he’d pulled up to the Dead End and she’d known right then that she was exactly where she’d needed to be.

The Battle of New York had completely demolished the office building she’d worked in since she’d graduated from college, and her tiny apartment hadn’t faired much better. With only the clothes on her back and a fairly decent savings account, she’d booked the first flight out of New York to Jamaica.

She’d only intended to stay for a week, but once she’d learned that the owner of the Dead End was ready to retire, she’d drained her savings account and bought the tiny beach bar. What had started out as a whim had quickly turned into the best decision of her life. Island life was nothing like New York and she actually enjoyed waking up each morning and going to work, which wasn’t something she could have ever said about her job in the city.

The locals had taken their time warming up to her, but once they realized that she was there to stay—and that she had no intentions of turning the dive bar into some hipster joint—they had welcomed her with open arms. Her clientele included a few regulars that lived on the island full time, as well as tourists—like she’d been that first week—who were looking for the first bar they could find once they landed on the island.

There was a hotel right next door, so most people ended up getting a room and wasting their entire vacation sitting on one of her barstools and spending all of their money. YN didn’t mind, though. Middle class working men and women tipped better than the snooty rich folks down the beach at the Sandals resort. A few of them came ‘slumming’ every so often, and they always annoyed the shit out of her and her regulars.

She’d pegged the three new guys as entitled rich men on a business retreat at first, but after a few days—and some sizable tips—she’d had to rethink her initial assessment of them. They were a peculiar group of men, and something about them struck her as odd from the very first time they’d parked their cute little tushes on her barstools. Within the first few minutes she’d realized that they were all former military. It wasn’t so much the way they looked—every one of them had full beards and their hair definitely wasn’t 'high and tight’ like she’d seen in the movies. The way they moved, and the way they spoke gave away their military training, but she hadn’t said a word to them about it. They seemed like they wanted to get away from their former lives, and as someone who’d done the same, she couldn’t hold it against them.

The three of them—Thomas, James, and Grant—weren’t a group of guys you would’ve expected to be joined at the hip like they were. Thomas was a true extrovert, and was always quick with a smile and a flirty comment. James was sullen and taciturn, but YN figured it had something to do with the fact that he only had one arm. Grant, on the other hand, was a dream come true. As with all groups of men, one stood out as the leader, and in this particular group, it was definitely Grant. Tall and muscular with a mop of dark blond hair that was a few shades lighter than the beard he sported, he was an imposing man that was obviously used to giving orders. Thomas and James always seemed to defer to him when it came to making decisions, so YN assumed he must have been their commanding officer while they’d served together.

The three of them had set up shop a little ways down the shore. Their establishment, Three Jerks, was unlike anything she’d ever seen on the island.  They’d bought a few jet skis and rented them out by the half hour, but they’d also purchased a dilapidated food truck and sold jerk chicken, red beans, and rice while the tourists waited for the jet skis to come back in.

As much as she hated to admit it, it was a great idea. She’d been as skeptical as the rest of the locals, but curiosity had gotten the better of her—not to mention the smell of jerk chicken wafting down on the breeze—and she’d ventured over to give their culinary skills a taste. She hadn’t been disappointed. Whoever had taught Thomas to make jerk chicken had known what they were doing. Within a week, Thomas had been forced to leave the jet ski rentals to James and Grant so he could focus on the food truck.

The three of them came by her bar most evenings, and she truly enjoyed their company, but there was a part of her that wanted to spend some one on one time with Grant. Listening in on James and Thomas’ constantly bickering like an old married couple was entertaining, but she felt a pull toward Grant that she hadn’t felt since she’d moved to the island. There had been a few flings with vacationing tourists, but that had mostly been due to the need to scratch an itch.

With Grant, it was different. He had these old, soulful eyes that spoke volumes about his mysterious history. He may have put on a carefree attitude for everyone else, but YN had learned over the years to see beneath the surface of a carefully constructed façade.

For some reason she got the impression that Grant wasn’t like most of the men that had come across her path in the past few years. There was something almost old-fashioned about the way he spoke to not only her, but everyone he conversed with. His politeness wasn’t something put on for the sake of his business—it seemed to be as genuine as the heart-stopping smile he gave her every time he sat perched on a barstool before her.

“The usual, please,” Grant told YN as he slid onto his favorite stool.

YN didn’t even need to turn around to know who’d dropped by. “What about you boys—the usual as well?”

“They’re not here,” Grant said, causing YN to turn around in surprise.

She poured three fingers of whisky into a glass and placed it neatly on a paper napkin embossed with the name of the bar. “And how exactly did you manage to get away from those two?”

“Thomas met a dame.”

YN smiled at his use of the antiquated term. It was little things like that that had her wondering where in the world he’d come from.

“And James?”

Grant laughed as he took a swig of his whisky. “The dame had a friend who took a liking to James. Thomas paid him a hundred bucks to double with him so he could get lucky.”

Shaking her head, she began to laugh. “Oh, to be a fly on that wall.”

“I know, right?”

Another customer flagged her down, so she left Grant alone with his drink. She knew this was probably her only opportunity to get him alone, so if she was going to make a move, it had to be tonight. It was the off season, so the bar wasn’t busy—it would just be a matter of getting the few customers that remained to go home so she could close up shop and try to get lucky herself.

Fate seemed to be on her side as one by one, her regulars called it an early night and left her alone with Grant. She’d been scared that he would leave before she got her chance, but he’d seemed content to drink his whisky and watch the sun set over the horizon.

“I think I’m going to close up early tonight,” she told him as she wiped the bar down with a damp rag.

“Oh,” he said, surprised at her announcement. “I can go, if you want.”

“Actually,” she began as butterflies began fluttering in her stomach. “I was hoping you’d join me for a drink…somewhere a little more private.”

She watched the confusion on his face turn to understanding and she held her breath as she waited to see what he would say. A part of her feared that she’d just ruined one of the only friendships she’d made on the island, but another part knew that she’d never forgive herself for not at least trying.

He tore his gaze away from hers and stared at the empty glass before him. He’d known how she felt about him for a while now, but he’d never acted on it. It wasn’t as if he were free to pursue a relationship, but then again, his duties and obligations had kept him from having a life for the better part of a century. Maybe it was time to be a little bit selfish.

“I’d like that,” he finally said, chancing a glance to see how she’d take his answer. He saw the relief wash across her face as a huge smile lit up her eyes in a way he’d never seen before.

“Okay, just give me a few minutes to close up shop.”

“I’ll help,” he offered as he began to help her secure the bar for the night.

The pretense of the drink was forgotten the moment they crossed the threshold of her tiny bungalow beside the bar. Before she’d known what was happening, she was pressed up against the back of the door as Grant’s lips began to softly caress hers. His hands weren’t as gentle as his mouth as he slid them beneath the hem of her shirt. The contrast between his rough hands and tender kisses had her mind reeling.

“Tell me to stop,” he whispered as his mouth left hers to explore the exposed flesh above the collar of her t-shirt.

“Don’t you dare,” she warned as she hooked one of her legs around his waist to draw him closer to her.

Regaining some of her senses, she finally let herself indulge in the one fantasy she’d had since she’d first laid eyes on him—burying her hands in his hair. The thick strands were just as soft as they appeared and as she ran her fingers over his scalp, she could feel the moan rise up in his chest before she heard it.

She’d expected him to be rough with her, and although she wouldn’t have complained in the least, he’d turned out to be a slow and patient lover. It was almost as though he was worshiping her body with his hands and lips. She lost count of how many times he sent her careening over the edge before he finally joined her.

Lying spent in his arms, she wondered if this would only be a one time thing, or if they’d finally crossed the line between friends and lovers for good. If this turned out to be the only opportunity she’d get to be loved by him, she’d be sorely disappointed. He’d completely ruined her for any other man, and she knew she’d never be able to go back to the cheap one-night stands she’d thought she’d enjoyed with the tourists.

Forcing her mind to leave her worries for tomorrow, she willed herself to relax and enjoy the afterglow of the most amazing sex she’d ever had. As she felt her minds softening toward sleep, his fingers began to lightly trail over her skin.

“Do you want me to leave?” he asked softly, not sure if she’d already fallen asleep or not.

His question had her senses reawakening as she lifted her head to meet his gaze. “I’d really like it if you stayed.”

She knew she was putting herself out there even more than she already had, but she was desperate to keep him for as long as he was willing to stay.

He leaned over and gently kissed her. “I’d like that, too.” He paused for a moment. “I should probably grab a shower, though. Care to join me?”

The prospect of shower sex had her wide awake in an instant. Sliding out of the bed, she grabbed his hand and led him toward the bathroom. As she turned on the water, she saw his eyes begin to darken with desire and she realized she was going to be in for a long night.

___________________

“That’s him,” Peter whispered to Ned as they hid behind a tuft of grass on the beach a few yards from the bar.

“Are you sure, Peter?” Ned asked as he squinted his eyes. “That doesn’t look like Captain America at all.”

Peter rolled his eyes and let out a huff. “He’s undercover—of course he doesn’t look like himself. It’s just like Falcon and the Winter Soldier—they’re trying to blend in so no one knows who they are.”

“I don’t know,” Ned said, still not convinced. “Why would Captain America be renting jet skis with the Falcon and the Winter Soldier in Jamaica? That doesn’t seem like something superheroes do.”

Peter was starting to get frustrated. “Mr. Stark told me he’d gotten really good intel that these three were down here.” He turned to his friends and began to plead. “C'mon, man. This is the first real mission Mr. Stark has given me since we went to Germany. I can’t screw this up—not like the ferry.”

Ned nodded and pulled out his phone. Zooming in as much as he could, he snapped a picture of the long-haired, bearded guy Peter was convinced was Captain America. “I guess this guy could be Cap.”

“Send me that picture,” Peter said as he pulled out his phone. “I need to text this to Mr. Stark.”

“So, if he’s Captain America, then that means your mom is on a date with the Falcon,” Ned surmised with a nod. “Way to go, Aunt May.”

Peter slapped his friend. “Ew, gross, man. That’s my aunt you’re talking about.”

“What about her friend, Debbie?” Ned asked as his eyes grew large. “She’s going to hook up with the Winter Soldier.”

“No one is hooking up,” Peter said with a huff. “May isn’t like that.” He paused for a moment. “Debbie? Yeah, probably, but not May.”

“Ooh,” Ned said as he began to chuckle. “It looks like Cap is getting lucky tonight, too.”

“What?”

Ned pointed to where the man and the bartender were closing up and heading toward a small bungalow beside the bar.

Peter looked back down at his phone. “Do you think Mr. Stark needs to know about that?”

Ned shrugged. “I don’t know? Is it important who he’s banging?”

“What if she’s a Russian spy?” Peter asked as his mind started reeling with possibilities.

“Good point,” Ned agreed. “Better let him know just in case.”

Peter’s lips formed a thin line as he nodded in agreement. Typing out a quick update, he hit send and motioned for Ned to follow him back down the beach to the Sandals resort where Mr. Stark had booked their “vacation.”

___________________

The next few days were like a dream for YN. Not only had Grant stayed the entire night, but he’d spent the next few nights at her place as well. Thomas and James had brought their new lady friends to the bar, and she’d immediately hit it off with the native New Yorkers. It had been nice to find out what was going on back home, and to hear that the city was finally starting to recover from the infamous battle that had torn it to shreds. YN had thought it was odd that the three men seemed uncomfortable talking about the Battle of New York, but she brushed it off and continued chatting with the ladies.

Thomas’ friend, May, had brought her nephew and his friend along with her, but the two boys opted to stay at the beach while the adults enjoyed drinks at the bar. YN had offered them sodas or virgin mixed drinks, but they seemed content to hang out by themselves.

James had given Grant a knowing look the first time he’d reached out to graze his fingers over her knuckles. YN wasn’t sure what to make of it, but she hoped that both James and Thomas approved of her new relationship with their friend. She didn’t want it to change the dynamic between the four of them, although, as long as they were distracted with their new lady friends, it didn’t seem to matter what Grant did with his spare time.

“Who’s that down there with Peter and Ned?” Debbie asked as she gestured toward the beach with her daiquiri.

May shielded her eyes against the setting sun as she squinted toward the beach. “It looks like Tony Stark.”

YN had been asking Grant a question, so she saw the minute his demeanor morphed from fun and lighthearted to lethal. The instant change in him—as well as Thomas and James—had her taking a step back.

Grant turned toward his friends. “Go. Now.”

Thomas shook his head as James stood up from his stool and let out a resigned sigh. “Not without you.”

All three of the ladies were confused at the sudden turn of events, but it was May that finally spoke first. “He’s not that bad, honestly. A little pompous and full of himself, maybe.”

“Rogers,” Tony called out as he stepped under the awning of the bar and removed his sunglasses.

When Grant turned around to face him, YN felt as though the ground beneath her was crumbling. She’d known that the three men had been hiding from something, but now she was slowly coming to realize that she had no idea who she’d been sharing her bed with the past few nights.

“Tony,” Grant said warily as he moved to stand in front of Thomas and James. “You should have called first.”

Tony took an outdated flip phone from his pocket and turned it over in his hands. “I would’ve, but I didn’t think this thing got good reception this far south.” Turning serious, he gave Grant a hard look. “What are you doing down here, Steve?”

It was as though someone had poured ice water down her back. Steve Rogers? The Steve Rogers? She turned to stare at Grant, but she had a hard time resigning the bearded man she’d come to love with America’s favorite son. It all made sense, though—the chivalry, the odd references, even the antiquated language he was so fond of using. She’d been sleeping with Captain America.

“We’re not doing anything wrong, Tony,” Thomas said as he stepped forward to stand beside Steve.

YN’s attention was now on the other two men she’d come to think of as friends.  Thomas and James obviously weren’t their names, but she honestly had no idea who they were. Since she’d come to the island, she’d tried to stay away from the goings-on in the world.

“I know,” Tony said, holding up his hands to show he meant no harm. “The kid’s been filling me in on your little enterprise.” He looked over toward the jet skis and food truck down the beach. “Gotta say, I love the name.”

“What do you want, Stark?” James asked as he gave Tony a hardened look.

Tony gave James a wink. “I’m not here for you, stubby.”

“Wait just one damn minute,” May said as she finally realized what was going on. Turning on Tony, she stalked over to him and began poking him in the chest with her finger. “Did you send Peter down here to spy on fugitives for you? What in the hell were you thinking?”

“May, May, no,” Peter said frantically as he rushed past Tony to grab his aunt’s arm. “It’s okay, really. Cap wouldn’t hurt me—he wouldn’t hurt anyone.” He looked up at Steve. “Right?”

Steve had been confused for a moment, but once he heard Peter’s voice, he realized who he was. “You’re the spider-kid from Queens. The one from Germany?”

May’s eyes grew large and she was about to tear into someone, but who would’ve gotten the tongue-lashing was left up in the air as Tony quickly interceded. “Happy. Take the kid and his family back to the resort. I’ll be along shortly.”

YN stood slack-jawed as a burly man in a suit began ushering a cussing May, a dumbstruck Debbie, a stuttering Peter, and his starry-eyed friend toward the road where a sleek black car sat idling at the curb. So much was happening so quickly, she was having a hard time keeping track of it all.

Once it was just the men, Tony turned to Steve with a pleading look in his eye. “Something big is coming. I don’t know what, but it’s bad. We need all hands on deck.” He paused and gave Steve a hopeful look. “Whaddya say? Want to get the band back together?”

Steve let out a sigh and pinched the bridge of his nose between his fingers. “What about Ross?”

“I’ll take care of Ross,” Tony assured him.

“What about me?” James asked.

Tony let out a huff. “I still hate you, Barnes. But Rogers won’t come back with out you two numbnuts, so that doesn’t leave me much choice.”

“You goin’ to send me back to the Raft?” Thomas asked as he crossed his arms over his chest and glared at Tony.

“No one’s going to the Raft,” Tony assured them. “I told you I’d deal with Ross, and I will. Rhodey will keep him occupied while we deal with this threat. After that, we’ll have some leverage to get your names cleared with the UN.”

Steve turned to look at Thomas and his gaze landed on YN. With a heavy heart, he realized that in a matter of minutes, he’d completely lost her trust. The look she was giving him was a mix of hurt and anger and he couldn’t very well blame her.

With a sigh, he looked away and focused on his friends. “Whaddya say, guys? It’s your call.”

“I say we stay,” James began, but before Thomas or Steve could reply, he held up a hand. “But I know your dumbass. You’ll never sleep knowing the world is in danger and you didn’t go help.”

Thomas shook his head. “I hate to admit it, but I agree with Buck.”

Steve shook his head. “You two go get what we’ll need while I talk to Tony.”

Thomas and James nodded and turned to go. They both stopped and gave YN a sorrowful look. Muttering apologies, they shuffled off toward the apartment they shared over the rental shop.

“Can I get a drink?” Tony asked YN once the other two were gone.

“Make that two?” Steve asked with a grimace.

YN didn’t say anything as she turned to pour the drinks. He hadn’t specified, but she assumed Tony Stark was a whisky man, so that’s what she gave him. Feeling as though she’d be intruding, she started to walk toward the other end of the bar, but Steve stopped her.

“YN,” he said softly as he reached out to touch her arm. “Please let me explain.”

Tony narrowed his eyes as he took in the scene. Pointing back and forth between the two, he slowly began to nod as if he’d just figured it out. “Something’s going on here, isn’t it?” He focused his attention on her. “YN, right? I’m taking it you didn’t know?”

She looked to Steve to see if he’d answer, but when he simply hung his head and took a sip of his whisky, she turned back to Tony. “I knew he had a past—we all do—but I didn’t know he was Steve Rogers. He told me his name was Grant.”

“It is,” Steve said looking up at her with pleading eyes. “It’s my middle name.”

She shrugged. “So, it was a half-lie, but still a lie.” She shook her head as all the anger she’d been feeling over the past few minutes finally came to a head. “Was it all a lie? Did I ever mean anything to you?”

Tony started to make a snarky remark, but Steve held out a hand to stop him. “Not now, Tony.” Looking back at YN, his shoulders slumped. “It wasn’t a lie—I swear. I never meant to get involved, but…”

“I made the first move,” she finished for him as she shook her head. “You tried to warn me, but I didn’t listen. I guess it’s my own fault.” She grabbed a rag and started toward the other end of the bar. “Don’t worry about saying goodbye—you’ve got more important things to do.”

This time Steve let her go.

“Damn, Rogers,” Tony said with a low whistle. “You sure know how to pick 'em.”

“Shut up, Tony,” Steve said as he downed the rest of his drink.

Tony laid a hand on Steve’s shoulder. “Look, take it from someone who’s been there—go fix things with the lady before you go. If you don’t, it’ll just weigh on your mind and I need you on your game for this one, buddy.”

Tony pulled out his wallet and left a crisp hundred dollar bill on the bar before patting Steve on the back and heading toward the car that had just pulled back up to the curb. Steve let out a deep breath and thought about Tony’s advice. Maybe he was right. Leaving things like this would be something he’d regret for a long time to come.

He walked around the bar and came up behind YN. Reaching out, he laid a hand on her arm. “YN.”

She turned to look at him, and he could see the redness in her eyes where she was trying not to cry. He hated that he’d hurt her. He should have told her the truth that first night, but would it have made this any easier?

“I’m sorry I didn’t tell you the truth,” he said as he reached to cup her face. “I was an idiot not to trust you.”

“Would you have ever told me?” she asked as she stared into his eyes looking for answers she wasn’t sure she wanted to know.

“I don’t know,” he admitted. “I want to say yes because you mean a lot to me.”

“I mean a lot to you?” she asked with a huff of indignation as she pulled away from him.

Knowing he was going to have to lay it all on the line, he ran a hand down his face and resigned himself to the inevitable. This wasn’t how he’d thought this conversation would go, but she deserved the truth—the whole truth.

“I love you, YN.”

Her back was to him, but his whispered words were just loud enough to have her stopping in her tracks. “Don’t lie to me. Not again.”

He walked over to her and turned her around to face him. “Look at me. I wouldn’t lie about that. I love you, and I’m pretty sure you love me, too.”

She tilted her head back and closed her eyes. “So what if I do? That doesn’t change the fact that you’re leaving.”

“Maybe not,” he said. “But it gives me a reason to come back.”

She opened her eyes and found him looking at her with hope-filled eyes. She’d fallen in love with those eyes, and she’d never thought she’d see the day where those feelings would be returned—but here they were.

“You can’t promise that.”

“I can promise to do my best,” he said as he pulled her into his embrace. “Knowing that you’ll be here waiting for me will give me that much more reason to win this fight.”

“I came here to get away from superheroes and their fights,” she said with a laugh as she lay her head on his shoulder. “It’s just my luck that I’d go and fall in love with one.”

Steve’s heart swelled at her admission. “Yeah, life’s funny like that.”

She looked up and met his eye. “You’ll be careful?”

“I can’t let down my best girl, now can I?”

She framed his face with her hands as they met one another halfway. The kiss was full of sadness and regret, but she’d take what she could get at that point.

“I’ve gotta go,” he said as he pulled away.

“Until we meet again.”

He gave her a sad smile. “Until we meet again.”

___________________

YN thought about Steve’s promise to come back to her as she watched one of her regulars turn to dust before her eyes. She had no idea what was happening, but she knew it wasn’t good. Whatever battle he’d been fighting must not have gone well. Her breath caught in her throat as she saw her hand start to dematerialize in front of her. It seemed as though she wouldn’t be keeping her promise to be there waiting for him after all. As she began to fade away, she closed her eyes and whispered, “I love you, Steve.”

Amsterdam in 10

1. The unruly vibe. When we entered Amsterdam from the train station for the first time, it was such an abrupt change from the atmosphere of Copenhagen. We were immediately swept into the flow of foot traffic crowding the narrow streets. In stark contrast to the law-abiding Danes, no one seemed to follow the instructions of stoplights or pedestrian signs. Cyclists appeared to be out for tourists’ blood. Luckily, the walk from the train station to our hostel was a short one—I was happy to have booked a place that was very centrally located. However, after seeing piles of litter lining the cramped streets, and after smelling certain odors wafting through the area, I was suddenly less happy to be sleeping somewhere “centrally located” in Amsterdam. Everything seemed brash, bustling, and bacchanal—not what I’d call our natural habitat, but we were determined to make the best of it. 2. The man who complimented Nicolas’ beard. Nicolas and I were really fond of the man working at the desk when we checked into our hostel.  I was the one with the cash, so I was handling most of the conversation. Suddenly, he glanced at Nicolas and then did a double-take and said, “You have an excellent beard!” Nicolas was taken aback but thanked him, and complimented his beard in return. “Thank you,” he said, “I like to grease mine down, you know, to make me more attractive. But with a beard like that,” pointing to Nicolas’ chin, “just put a turban on you and you could pass for Indian too!” He belly laughed. Facial hair: uniting men across cultures. 3. The architecture. Of all the cities we visited on this trip, I had the clearest pre-trip picture in my head of Amsterdam. I knew there were winding alleyways, tall skinny houses, bicycles, and canals. That was indeed what we saw when we arrived. When we found a sidewalk or bridge empty enough to stop on without bothering anyone, we took a minute to admire the architecture. I enjoyed the opportunity to notice that all the buildings were of different heights, and the windows zigzagged across the façades instead of making a neat grid. Our hostel was built in the typical Amsterdam style too, so we got to see what the inside of those tall skinny buildings look like. Our room had space for a full-size bed, one chair, a small table, a coat closet, and a bathroom sink—that was it. But the window in the room was huge and we could people-watch while sitting on our bed.

4. The breakfast food. Having to find and buy breakfast first thing in the morning can be tricky, so anytime a free breakfast is offered to us by the Airbnb/hotel/hostel we are staying at, we eat it. Our place in Amsterdam offered us a breakfast of four slices of bread apiece with jam and butter, two slices of cheese, and a hard-boiled egg, plus our choice of tea or coffee. It was basic, but it was convenient, filling, and free. The breakfast and the check-in desk were all in the same room, so while we ate, the desk worker watched the morning news on the international CNN channel, which was reporting on the government shutdown.

Sadly, this was in a museum and not our hostel’s breakfast area, but we can pretend we ate here anyway.

5. The peaceful mornings. Breakfast wasn’t served at our hostel until 8:30 in the morning, so the earliest we could begin sightseeing was about 9:00 am. I was worried that we wouldn’t have a lot of time to get to the museums on the other side of town before they got busy. When we left right at 9, though, the streets were absolutely deserted except for the two of us and the fleets of garbage trucks and street cleaners. I couldn’t get over how empty it was. I kept wondering aloud to Nicolas where the people were who had to work, and he reminded me that the people who work in the city aren’t likely to live in the touristy area. It felt like we were the only two people visiting for Amsterdam’s cultural attractions instead of its nightlife. Given that the city felt so cramped and claustrophobic at other times of day, I was happy to have a little more room to breathe in the mornings.

6. The disorientation.  Amsterdam is known for its canals, and it certainly has a lot of them. I knew this going in, yet still felt disoriented every time we walked from one place to another. In lots of other European cities, you have “the river” that basically divides the city in two and gives you a basic sense of direction. If you get lost, you can make your way back to the river and reorient from there. The spider-web shaped system of canals in Amsterdam had the opposite effect. Every canal and every bridge looked exactly like the last, and since they radiated in all directions, they did nothing to help us distinguish north from south or east from west. Even after spending a couple of days walking around all of Amsterdam, we were still extremely dependent on the map on my phone to get around.

7. Favorite fun fact: all about Rembrandt’s Night Watch. It turns out that even for an art lover like me, there is such a thing as too many art museums. The Rijksmuseum in Amsterdam was one of the last ones that we went to. It was a shame that we were suffering from art fatigue when we went there, because it was a massive museum with an impressive collection of art. We decided to plan the rooms we really wanted to see and skip the rest. One of the “don’t miss” works in the museum was Rembrandt’s Night Watch. I only knew the bare minimum about Rembrandt when we went (Dutch, 1600s, fan of chiaroscuro), and I knew nothing at all about Night Watch. The painting was absolutely massive and housed in a cathedral-like room, with Night Watch occupying the place of the altar, and smaller works by Vermeer and Reubens placed in alcoves along the two longer walls. I learned that the painting was commissioned by an actual militia company, but was controversial because Rembrandt’s composition departed drastically from convention. Before, a commissioned work of a group of people would always have each subject’s face clearly visible, and they would be neatly posed with no movement suggested by the painting at all. Night Watch, by contrast, shows the militiamen exiting a building in a rather disorderly bunch, with some people’s faces obscured by darkness or by another object. I tend to perceive Rembrandt as talented and respectable, yet old and crusty, so it’s funny to think of him as the bad boy of painting in his time. I had no idea at first glance what was so special about the painting, so I really enjoyed learning to view it in a different light and appreciate the innovation of it.

8. The demonstrations at the Rembrandt house. We visited the house where Rembrandt lived for about 17 years before his financial difficulties forced him to sell it. Because his belongings were all repossessed, there is a near-perfect record of what Rembrandt had in his house when he lived there. We saw lots of his paintings and etchings, as well as (approximations of) the furniture and objects with which he decorated his bedroom, galleries, and studio.  I was most interested by the etching and paint-making demonstrations that we saw in Rembrandt’s studio. A woman taught us about different etching techniques, running a real etching through an antique press and then showing us the resulting print. It reminded me of the linoleum printmaking project I struggled through in middle school art class, which gave me even more respect for the exquisite quality of etchings Rembrandt produced.

9. The (disappointing) Van Gogh museum. The Van Gogh Museum has the largest collection of the Dutch artist’s works in the world, so I had pretty high expectations for it. I thought it would be like the Monet exhibit from Vienna mixed with the Sisi Museum, addressing both his work and his private life. The museum did do both of those things, but in a way that seemed a little glib. It’s widely known that Van Gogh suffered from mental illness and that he lived in poverty because his art didn’t become financially successful until after his death.  So it bothered me a little when the captions for his paintings said things like, “The colors express powerful emotion.” Which emotion? How do you know? What is it specifically about these colors that are expressive? Is “expressing emotion” really the top priority for a starving artist desperate to sell a painting? I just didn’t find their interpretations of the paintings convincing, and I didn’t learn as much as I had hoped. Also, the last disappointment was my own fault, but I was implicitly expecting to see Starry Night, and that painting was not in the museum’s collection. I should have thought to confirm whether or not Starry Night was there beforehand to manage my expectations properly, but it slipped my mind. It turns out Starry Night is on display at the MoMA in New York. We’ll just have to go there a different time! 10. The fish sandwich. I read online that the Dutch don’t have much of a traditional cuisine, with the exception of Hollandse Nieuwe, a lightly brined raw herring. Even though it didn’t sound appetizing, I decided that I wanted to try it just for the sake of tasting something new. We went to a  hole-in-the-wall fish market/lunch spot, and I got the raw herring sandwich topped with a Dutch toothpick flag, pickles, and diced onions, while Nicolas got a fried cod sandwich. The man behind the counter was friendly and charming; when he handed  me my sandwich he said, “The best thing about it is that you’ll speak Dutch afterwards!” The herring tasted about like you’d expect—salty and soft and oniony. It was edible, but by my last bite, I was definitely ready to be done. I was thankful that Nicolas let me have a taste of the cod afterwards so that the herring wasn’t the last taste lingering in my mouth for the rest of the day. I think the cashier’s line about speaking Dutch was a euphemism for having bad breath.

For the Love of a Parking Meter: an interview with Pure Vision Arts artist Chase Ferguson

Chase Ferguson is an artist working out of Pure Vision Arts, a NYC-organization providing individuals with autism and other developmental disabilities new opportunities for artistic expression and creative freedom. As part of Inside Job — our monthly artists’ profile series led by LAND Gallery’s Sophia Cosmadopoulos — Ferguson talks about DIY sci-fi blasters, parking meters and incandescent lighting.

Sophia Cosmadopoulos: Hello old friend, can you introduce yourself?

Chase Ferguson: Name’s Chase Ferguson. I’m the guy who makes some paper models, cardboard models, artwork characters, Mii characters and parking meters.  

SC: We’ve known each other for a long time. Can you describe how we met?

CF: You used to work at Pure Vision and I met ya. For a couple of years.

SC: And what is Pure Vision Arts? CF: It’s a place for people to do art every day and every year. It’s at 114 West 17th Street in Manhattan.

SC: And how long have you been going to PVA?

CF: Since 2010. Yeah. I have been here for almost 9 years, yep.

SC: What are you currently working on at PVA?

CF: I am doing some bigger cardboard models. I now do the firetruck, large models, out of cardboard. I made small sized models, formally, and I made medium size models and now I make bigger size models.

SC: Yes, your models have gotten bigger and you now use cardboard instead of paper! What were they like before?

CF: I made the small cars out of paper. I used to do the computer drawings out of them. But now currently paper drawings, hand drawings.

SC: That’s right. So you used to create a flat diagram of your car models on the computer, but now you draw them freehand. Then what comes next?

CF: Then cut them and fold them. Then put papers in it, yeah and then tape them up.

SC: Then they become 3D. What is your favorite car to make?

CF: Old cars, any of old cars. 1900s, 10s, 20s, 30s, 40s, 50s, 60s, 70s and fewer 80s. Beatle buses, Ford Mustang, Chevy Belier, MINI Cooper, Dodge Charger, Plymouths and more. That’s all.

SC: And you like to go to the Javits Center for the car shows, right? CF: Yeah, that’s right. Every year for 18 years. Since I was 12, 13 years old. I take pictures. I go to the Museum Bus Festival too. Every September, every year in Brooklyn. And the Transit Museum. I have been for a long time at the Transit Museum.

SC: And besides the cars, what are you working on now? You have developed a new series right? CF: Yeah, weapons. Blasters and phasers. From Star Wars and Star Trek, I watch them. The blasters are made out of cardboard boxes. I did the Hans Solo blaster and the James T Kirk phaser, and Imperial E-11 blaster and what else? I did the Blue Guard’s blasters this year. And the ST 14 C blaster pistol and the CR2 blaster pistol.

SC: What made you interested in these weapons? CF: Types of blasters from movies and TV shows and games. These Star Wars video games. I saw them all, I saw these types of blasters.

SC: When I first met you, you were really into parking meters, do you want to explain that?

CF: I made parking meters since 2013, a couple of years ago, because they were being replaced, being phased out by Muni Meters; that’s why I made them. Parking meters had been here a long time since 1951. They had been withdrawn since 2011, I saw them being replaced by Muni Meters. I just didn’t realize that all the meters with the coins were gone, they had been removed. Now all that’s left, that remains, is “pay at muni meter” on top of the meters. They had made a change.

SC: You were sad to see them go, so you immortalized them in your replicas! You actually made a physical model of a parking meter right?

CF: Yes with moving parts, put a coin in and also digital.

SC: And what models did you make?

CF: Yeah, like the old parking meter with a flag on it, that said “time expired” with a violation and an arrow. The models are Duncan, Park O Meter and MacKay. There are three of them parking meter factories. Two of them in the US — Park O Meter and Duncan — and Mackay parking meter in Canada, manufactured in Canada. Duncan model 60, model 70, model 80, model 90, model 95. There is duplex, double, twin parking meter, separate. There is also a quad parking meter, with four of them.

SC: I remember you would go visit the quad in Gowanus! It was like a pilgrimage. You had me looking for parking meters all over the city — I had never really noticed them before. And how did you make them? CF: I made them out of cardboard paper. I made them on cardboard and cut them out and then glued them up and painted them. The base was a pipe.

SC: And some had moving parts? CF: Yeah made out of cardboard and straws that you could move.

SC: What do you like about parking meters?

CF: They are more collectible. I was 25 when they went away. I was a kid and I would see them any place in Manhattan and the Bronx.

SC: Are there any left in NYC? CF: Only a bit left. In a junkyard, bagged up in Queens. Underneath the Queensboro bridge in the DOT parking storage. There are a few in the Bronx. Last time I saw them, probably some on 49th street. Used to be in Coney Island leftover, Duncan model 80 and some in Downtown Brooklyn.

SC: How many meters have you made over the years? CF: 100 of them. I had a goal for 100. Now they are overseas. London and the Netherlands.

SC: And what’s your ultimate, favorite model? CF: The New York City parking meter, model 90 and 95. They have been here for a long time.

SC: You used to travel around and photograph them, right? I remember loving seeing your vacation photos because they were only ever of parking meters.

CF: Yeah, yeah, yeah sometimes. Oh yeah, in Baltimore? That’s right Duncan model 80 with moving parts, the oldest, in Baltimore. Back in 2017, I went with mom and saw the rest. Also in Atlantic City, the Park O Meters. And I photograph ice cream trucks too, especially Mister Softee. Now I take pictures of cars, trains and buses. And traffic lights.

SC: Oh yes, you love traffic lights too. And light bulbs. Talk to me about that.

CF: I used to make them out of cardboard. I started in 2012, have made probably a few. I had to have a special kind of lightbulb for it. A party bulb, incandescent and CFL. I used to work at a hardware store with bulbs. I was looking for a bulb that was more cooler. My favorite is incandescent, CFL and LED, that makes 3 things.

SC: Yes, you used to work in a hardware store. What happened to that job?

CF: I used to work there. Then Hurricane Sandy destroyed the rest. Back in 2012, that’s right. It was in downtown where I worked in the basement on the computer. All my files that I gave to them was lost forever. That’s been cut now.

SC: You also love the subway, what do you love about it?

CF: Oh yeah, the old subway cars are from 1900s, 30s, 40s, 50s and 60s. My favorite is any of the old subway cars. In the Transit Museum they weren’t used anymore. And the subway yards, the Coney Island yards, I see them. The museum train was out in Brighton Beach last week. The BMT subway cars. And the museum buses, the old look buses from the 1940s, 50s, 60s and 70s.

SC: Would you ever be a subway driver? CF: No, I am not trained for this, Sophia.

SC: And what about your drawings?

CF: Oh yeah, yeah, yeah. My Mii characters. I use these Mii characters’ outfits, I draw them all in the background. There are Michelle, Mela, Crema, Top Gum, Jamaya.

SC: Yes, you make up all the names, I love them. Especially Top Gum. And you are usually in the drawings too, right?

CF: Yeah, me as Chase. I am me, I was. And my alter ego is Case. She went back to her own planet, to her own universe. Now she’s gone.

SC: Where did you grow up?

CF: In Brooklyn, then Long Island, then the Bronx, then Harlem since 2004.

SC: When did you first make artwork? CF: Me? A long time. My first models? I was 11 years old. Yeah, I started at 11 years old and made a car. I don’t know the model. Then I made more of them, thousands. They are at home and at the art studio.

SC: You like to organize your models. I love watching you do that.

CF: Yeah, they are all gathered up. I line them up like a parking lot area. I do it at home sometimes. In my room there are only a few. The rest I gave away to mom.

SC: What art shows have you been in? CF: I have been all over the places. Any of places. Weird Days, City Reliquary, The New York City Transit Museum and what else? Yeah, yeah Pioneer Works, I was a one man show back two years ago. My models and parking meters, that’s right. And the Outsider Art Fair since 2011.

SC: Do you like going to those shows? How does it make you feel? CF: Good. The best artist to sell, to sell some.

SC: What are your goals for the future Chase? CF: Complete the models.

SC: What would you like people to know about you, the lasting impression?

CF: They want to know? They should know I am the best artist.

SC: Chase, thank you so much, it has been a real pleasure, you really are one of the best.