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ad1thi · 3 years

Note

henlo adi tis i with a request for some stevetony fics,,, angsty if you have 'em 💓

okay so this rec list is mainly classic stevetony fics, but i assure you - there’s angsty ones in there (ive marked the angsty ones with a 😞 so you can identify them quicker) just a general note that a lot of authors are going to repeat, because there are some authors that (imo) are stevetony staples (so if you see an author more than once - thats a sign that ALL of their stevetony is good and ive cherry picked the ones i love the most) (ive also marked those authors with a 🌟)

in the light of limerence: @shell-heads

It's the final game of the season, their biggest one yet, and there's only one question on everybody's mind: who the hell is Captain Steve Rogers' boyfriend, and why does Cap keep dodging questions about him?

"You gotta admit it's suspicious that only Bucky and Sam have met your boyfriend, dude," Clint points out as he shoves Pietro away with a smirk, pulling the uniform over his head and tugging it down. "We've known you, what-two years? We've never seen the guy even once."

"And your phone mysteriously only has pictures of Tony Stark," Johnny Storm adds as he joins the conversation, knocking knees with Thor when he sits down on one of the benches. "Tony Stark, who has at least ten fansites and personally assured me he's had a boyfriend for the past five years."

"I can't believe Cap is actually out here acting like Tony Stark's boyfriend," Luke says with a smirk, resting against a wall without a care.

"I can't believe you guys still think this is a joke," Sam throws back while tossing his other dirty sock at Luke, who dodges it smoothly.

In little more than ten minutes, the biggest question of Shield University is answered with much aplomb by none other than Tony Stark himself.

almeno tu nell'universo: @silkspectred 😞 🌟 (funfact: this is the fic that got me into stevetony)

Tony drives off.

Well, he wants to.

But he can’t.

Because.

Steve Rogers is in front of his car.

Steve fucking Rogers. Is in front of Tony’s fucking car.

Rookie and Jailbait Take On The World: @theapplepielifestyle 🌟

“You really should be in school, you know.”

“Why would I be there when I could be here, solving crimes with my favourite rookie?” Tony flashes a grin, and Steve’s stomach twists like it did on the first day.

Teenager, Steve’s mind supplies. Definitely not legal, stop doing fluttery things, stomach.

Thumb, Index and Pinky Extended: @/Eudoxia 😞

Tony Stark is twenty-one when he loses his voice. It shouldn't matter, but in a world where the first words your Soulmate says to you are marked on your skin, it can be pretty damn annoying.

I (created from fantasies) exist solely for you: @mizzy2k

Six years ago, without the Avengers Initiative there to save the day, scientist Dr. Eric Selvig sacrificed himself to save the world, the almighty demi-god Thor was lost to a terrible storm, and vigilante Iron Man – spotted with a nuclear weapon trying to take advantage of the situation – was forever labelled an enemy of SHIELD.

This is a comic book office AU, where Steve is defrosted a year too late, Thor has forgotten who he is, and no one knows Tony is Iron Man.

Also includes: office pranks, inappropriate post-it notes, and superheroes who like pina coladas and getting caught in the rain.

Celestial Navigation: @sabrecmc

Celestial Navigation: 18 year old Omega!Tony finds himself Bonded to Captain Steve Rogers. He isn't happy about it until he is.

By request, here is CN in one place without other stories and artwork.

Ironsides: @copperbadge 🌟

Antonia Carter Stark takes no shit and no prisoners.

Paved With Good Intentions (I’m On The Road To Hell): @itsallavengers 😞 🌟

When the mysterious group of vigilante assassins known only as 'The Avengers' are tipped off about the dirty secrets that lie within Stark Industries, Steve Rogers has his heart set on taking out Tony Stark for good in order to protect the rest of the world from his evil. He's seen the footage, after all- Stark is a man who fights only for himself. And of course, when a job arises as chief bodyguard for Stark, to protect him from the growing threat of an ominously infatuated stalker, the opportunity is way too good for him to miss out on. It's the perfect placement, and the perfect way to find out whether or not their tipoff is genuine.

But as Steve falls into rank as the new bodyguard for Mr. Stark and he spends time getting to know and protect him, his initial hatred begins to falter and merge into something different, something far more terrifying than the prospect of killing the face of Stark Industries.

Steve Rogers may just be falling in love with him instead.

The Problem With Communication: @itsallavengers

Steve is terrible at flirting, but when he finally picks up the courage to talk to the adorable barista who makes his drinks, he finds himself hitting a small snag:

That being, Tony is deaf. He doesn't know what Steve is saying.

But never say Steve Rogers does not rise to a challenge.

Killing Me Softly (With His Song): @itsallavengers

Steve is Tony's whole world. Tony couldn't imagine life without him. They've grown up together, after all.

Steve gets cancer.

Open Field In Front of Him: orphan account

Steve Rogers's football season is functionally over after a loss to Rutgers, but he finds a distraction in Tony Stark (yes, THAT Tony Stark). A college AU Stony fic.

Good For You: @orbingarrow 😞

Steve doesn't understand why Tony dates people who abuse him. Tony doesn't understand why Steve cares.

The rest is bad choices, good choices, rehab, milkshakes, paintball, YouTube videos, couples therapy and learning to put the past in the past. Or: How Tony finds his happy ending.

COMPLETE 5/27/16 Edited to add art as last chapter on 6/23/16

Wrapped Up In Clover: @festiveferret

It's been seven years since Steve and Tony split up, and Steve's sure he'll never see Tony again. He's finally managed to put their failed relationship behind him and move on, focusing on his friends and building his business. But then his best friends, Bucky and Clint, decide to get married, and their wedding week at a cabin resort in Vermont turns into a minefield of heartbreak for Steve.

little green soldiers: @/nasa 🌟

“Rhodey,” Tony says. “I’m not stupid. He’s shipping out in three months. I’m not going to fall in love with him.”

Tony is a student at MIT; Steve is a soldier. They meet at a house party six months before Steve is set to deploy. This is their story.

flesh and bone: @/nasa 😞

“You or Rogers?” they ask, brandishing a knife or a gun or a flame.

“Me,” Tony says, over and over again. “Me, me, me,” always me.

Buried: @not-close-to-straight

When Howard Stark demands Tony work at a dig site in S.America one summer to "build character" and "learn about life", Tony is furious. But then he meets soldier/archeologist Steve and falls in love with blue eyes and a perfect smile.

Just as they are ready to move forward together, Steve leaves abruptly with no explanation and breaks Tonys heart. Ten years later, Tony stumbles across the file for the old dig site. He's determined to visit and shut it down, but discovers that instead of a village, the dig has uncovered a temple and actually needs MORE money to stay open. A security team is hired to protect the staff and the artefacts they find, and Tony comes face to face with Steve Rogers all over again– except Steve is bearded and BIGGER and way more dangerous than he used to be...And Tony likes it.

When the camp is attacked, Steve jumps into action, snatching Tony and running into the jungle to escape and work their way towards safety. But long days and nights together bring back old feelings, and one day Steve takes a risk and asks Tony to give them another chance. Will Tony say yes? Or is his heart buried too far for the soldier-turned- archaeologist-turned-mercenary to find it?

don’t know why it took me so long to see: @3799steps

“Oh, watch this,” Natasha says, propping her chin against her knuckles and turning a sweet gaze on him. “Tony, what’s it like dating a superhero?”

Tony bristles in irritation. “We’re not dating,” he snaps. “Captain America probably thinks he can get into anyone’s pants just ‘cause he’s got a mask, costume, and reputation, but not me, buddy. That shield? Gotta be overcompensating for something.” He adds, a bit petulantly, “Oh, and all that blue? Definitely more Steve’s color than his.”

- In which Tony is a genius in all matters except recognising his boyfriend past a mask

Heartlines: @nanasekei 🌟

“Let me,” Tony repeats. He regrets it deeply, so much, he wants to stick the words back into his mouth again, and it must show, in the way his voice wavers. He feels exposed, all of a sudden, as if he’s asking something bigger than what he can actually say. Let me touch you, let me take care of you. “Just… Let me do it.“

Feel Whole Again: @thepartyresponsible

Steve turns to leave. It’s easier to talk, somehow, when he’s not looking at him. “If you need anything,” he says, “I’m just a few floors down.”

“Might regret that, Cap,” Tony says to his retreating back. “I’ve been told I’m needy.”

Steve doesn’t know who the hell said that to Tony. It’s probably for the best that he doesn’t.

“It’s an honor,” he says, a little helpless, out of his depth and out of his time. “It’s an honor to be trusted with something like that, Tony.”

Attack Dog: @/salytierra

Steve doesn't swim in self-delusion. He knows that he is sick and that his owner is even worse. He is aware of it every time he rips some nameless guy’s throat out and feels the crunch of bones under his fingers. He is aware of it every time the rush of adrenaline at seeing life slip away from a stranger’s eyes hits him and gets him bothered and panting in ways that have nothing to do with physical exhaustion.

But it feels so good…

His owner’s approach is less personal. His shots fall clean and take out several foes at a time, his figure elegant and so graceful he looks like a god among savages. He is power incarnated, cold and burning like a sun at the same time… and Steve tries not to focus on him when they are fighting together, least his knees go weak and his technique falters. It’s fine though. They will go home afterwards and his owner will fuck him on the hard floor, with most of their gear still on and a vicious grip in his hair.

#adi's rec list #stevetony #superhusbands #steve rogers/tony stark #stevetony staples #OKAY this is like 20 fics long #so im going to make a second post #and the second post will have more #but have these for now :)))#adi answers asks #rhodee

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bookofmariokingofmaiami · 3 years

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This is the second time making this post because i am angry as fuck because for some reason when I added the names it didn't save so I'm doing this shit again

Hey! I had a stupendus idea, the past few days I've gathered a bunch of mitten squad quotes and captain sauce quotes

Soooo, I'll put wich book of mario characters would say each quote and we'll see what happens

Yes I know 99% of the mitten squad quotes is gonna be bolivia and carbon

Also, some quotes reference characters and locations, so I'll put an [ ] with what I think the book of mario counterpart would be

MITTEN SQUAD SEGMENT

Lewis:"I have successfully turned an ordinary kitchen utensil into the most valuable fork in the known universe, no one man should have this kind of power, but I am not mortal man, as a sexualy identity as a big rock being thrown into the ocean"

Princess of peaches, talking about 1 TEC-20"The robot wasn't able to pick the lock and I lacked the fire power to blow the bitch open"

Marc:"I left a broom there too so my bucket wouldn't be lonely"

Carbon:"Calm down vegetarians I am talking about animals in video games, animals in real life matter way less"

Barney one:"Killing it isn't the hard part, the hard part is getting away from the explosion of the goddamm Nagasaki bomb strapped up its ass that was rigged to explode once it died"

Bolivia:"Todd Howard [barbie], even in death you find a way to fuck me"

Bolivia:"We came back to the little shit with the ant problem and killed most of the ants, I left one alive for the boy, either he becomes a man or that ant will have a very good day"

Goomb:"Me brain fixed gud no hurt no more"

Marc:"Picked up trash for the make a wish kid"

Bolivia, talking about maria:"Because she hits like a bull with down syndrome and has the personality of a piece of plywood"

Belize:"You might be wondering, who is the boy and who is the girl? I won't give it away but I will say this, the knife is a whore"

Maria:"I had armor, i had supplies, i had pockets full of room temperature tomatos"

Bolivia:"For some reason I thought that stupid the horse v2 could fly, bad decision on my part"

Carbon:"For some reason this shrapnel character had 200 BB's, what a weirdo, who caries around 200 BB's?, anyway, I talked to daddy and brought my 300 BB's and headed off to clear off the Jefferson memorial"

Goverman::"Get a juice box and strap on your helmet, because we're going to hell"

Carbon:"I punched a puppy to death"

Marc:"My iq is similar to that of a 14 year old block of cheese"

Lewis:"Theres an oxygen exhaust pipe, the second best tipe of pipe to suck on to keep yourself alive, for those who need hand holding, that was not a drug reference, this is a family friendly channel, it was a suicide joke"

Bolivia:"I got an amazing slow motion shot of dogmeat getting fucked to death by a nuclear warhead"

Maria:"My only option was to become a vampire, wich sucked"

Bolivia:"But just as when like how every virtual dog goes to hell when it dies, what the fuck does that even mean?"

Carbon:"I took advantage of a unconscious military officer and beat him to death"

Barney one:"Nothing else says more victory than overdosing on drugs after a war"

Prof. Ceasar reality:"And decided to go to the much bigger and much more research facility x-13 research facility facility center, WHAT? I think I had a stroke"

Bolivia:"Used more than 3% of my frag mines to blow up a dog"

Carbon:"The last few coursers ran for their non existence lives and I went after them because I'm not letting anyone get away, one got away"

Maria:"I got a warning saying that nuka world is intended for those level 30 or above, Mathematics show us that me being lv11 is close enough to lv30"

Carbon:"Killed a pain-maker and got a glimpse into the big G in the sky who manifested himself as a fire axe floating in the air, this voodoo shit has no place in zion so I chopped of the pain-maker's legs and arms so If there is an afterlife he will be a cripple in hell for all eternity"

Goverman:"Its head turned into jelly, I threw its egg down into the nightmare bellow, and then I jumped after it"

Carbon:"A herd of big hornets paid the ultimate price for being alive"

Goverman:"Used his gun to turn off a woman"

Maria:"Me being the player can't open the door, theres a know you have to twist it its a whole process"

Goverman explained why maria survived the fall:"One of them belonged to God and refused to die"

Goombell, talking about hoko saba:"The dragon I pretended to not exist a few minutes ago is one of my mom's friend's kids so I had to play with him even tho he's weird"

Belize:"There was no hamster's luck in a garbage disposal chance that I would follow this giant fuck all the way to the cit ruins"

Lewis:"Along the way i saved a shopping cart from drowning and returned it to its family"

Prof. Ceasar reality:"Its about 24 million cheez its away from New vegas"

Bolivia:"Ladies and gentlemen, welcome to bedworld"

Carbon:"With enough notches in my pistol to spell psychopath in braille"

Gooverman:"I spie with my little eye a ville whore who deserves to die, I cleaved her back in half with my stick and what I saw was glorious"

Maria?:"Its kinda like playing the floor is lava, but you can't see the lava and instead of burning to death you turn into a vegetable"

IDK"I hid from Ringo by hiding in ringo"

Bolivia:"The plate worked as well I thought it would, wich means it didn't work"

Bolivia:"There was a 3 for 1 discount on dead raiders if you use the promo code granade at checkout"

Belize:"The only explanation is that has a 5th appendage wich he pulls out on special occasions, wich probably isn't the case, we all know elmo doesn't pull out"

Goomb:"You don't need those things, Jesus got trough his life without any guns"

Goombape:"When i played it as a children"

Barbie:"Its like how you don't know if your life has any meaning until you die and see your score"

Belize:"This was the most stealth oriented part of the game by a metric mile"

Bolivia:"I stripped him naked, talked with Elliot [lewis] whose face bothered me for some reason,Talked with the samurai[maria], talked with red dead redemption [barney one]"

Carbon:"Some idiot spilled red paint on the clouds"

Bolivia:"Before traveling with the wizard, I spent some time pestering earnie with the prospect of friendship, by walking back and forth in front of him, making him think i wanted to talk to him just for me to keep on walking,I was voted the quietest guy I high-school and I know how loud earnie is screaming inside his head right now, it's kinda fun to be in this side of it :) ,also this isn't related to the video in any way, I just wanted to make it known that i have a sealed copy of elmos letter adventure for Nintendo 64 and you don't"

Maria:"I knew I could use that as a lighthouse of sorts in order to cast myself further into the ocean until i drowned in my own disappointment"

Goombell:"Vulpes[carbon] was adopted, his mother is both infertile and imaginary"

Belize:"Being alone is mental, you can be surrounded by friends family laughs and love on Christmas morning and still be alone in your head"

Bolivia:"I acted in self defense by committing various war crimes"

Carbon:"My throwing spears were broken and wouldn't fly,stupid fucking game"

Bolivia:"That wasn't a lie, it just wasn't the truth"

Maria:"If there's anything Shaun b knows to do is die"

Boombell:"The number of bear traps I activated for sexual reasons turned my angles into a fine powder"

Goverman:"Where the grass is green and the air is even greener"

IDK"I consulted a doctor who flucked out of medical school and followed his advice by killing myself"

Belize:"Being a futuristic[X-nauti], nazi dominated world version of polly poc,etc it has its own set of drawbacks"

Marc:"They're mass effect 3 of fallout 3's 5th dlc, I've never played mass effect"

Lewis:"Who loves their father like how their brother loves his mother's sister"

Carbon:"Like most existential crises it went away after I killed somebody"

Carbon:"If you're wraped in chains and dropped into an empty bathtub to drown, a snorklew won't save you"

Goombape:""A wise man once said "hi! Jeanie may's here" and he's right, there has to be a better way""

Browser:"After it took 3 grown man to kidnap a baby with a gun"

goldbob:"The lever action gun riffle can kill a mutant in a single shot if you land a shot that can kill it in one hit"

Maria:"Its 2020, Noone wants to use their hands anymore"

Bolivia:"Before journeying into more death, some jackass hit me with a granade and killed me, not the explosion, the granade bouncing off my soon to be corpse is was what made me dead"

Belize:"Some Neanderthals gave me their bullets to hold in a pretty rude way >:("

Princess of peaches:"Im not worried about offending blind people, it's not like they'll be watching this"

Carbon:"30 seconds is longer than you'd think, ask anyone whose been on fire"

Lewis:"I was as useful as a comatose toddler with a nerf gun at pearl harbor"

Goomb:"I also poused the challenge to satisfy the curiosity of mine regarding the birds in the sky that Don real because birds aren't exist"

Marc:"Any doctor worth their weight in styrofoam cups can fix a leg with their feet"

Bolivia:"I had me a silenced weapon, but I didn't account for today being his birthday, this changes everything, so I shaped for hollow point"

Carbon:"Maybe if Steve earlin had a gun instead of a snorklew he'd still be alive today"

Marc:"It took me 30 minutes and 3 phone calls to get my food because I'm too much of a pussy to go outside at 10 o'clock at night while drunk in a Christmas sweater after news year to steal my own food of one my neighbors doorstep"

Maria:"We've got rogue, tank dampse, and squidword"

Lewis;"And they're no joke, but I am, I am the big joke and my body is the punchline"

Bolivia:"I got mentally Nagasaki'd by this guy at the stables"

IDK"And went outside where Victor is unhappy with me, after killing Victor, Victor came out of the lucky 38 to avenge victor"

Bolivia:" i shot a kid, i sent that little bitch to the moon"

Sushiya, testing her products:"The door was of its axis, a plate was misbehaving on the chair, a cattle was dancing on the table like the whore she is"

Carbon:"And went shopping for dead bodies, they weren't in stock, but i know a guy who knows a guy who could help me out, both of those guys are me"

Bolivia:"Now vault yosh is I your head too, and he won't be going anywhere"

Maria's son:"As much of a monster that I look like, I think it's gonna work"

Sushiya:"But you know what they say, imagination is what happens when annoyance meets drug use"

Carbon:"If they're stupid enough to be in my way they might as well be my enemy"

Goverman:"But the slippery bastard was too clever, he walked around it, I didn't even know that such a maneuver was even possible"

IDK"Homeland security at this point has yet to be impregnated by a sentient barrel of oil"

Bolivia:" if I drunkenly put a giant hole on my sink with a goddam coffee cup imagine what I could do with a gun"

Belize:"Got ambushed in the freezer while searching for chicken nuggets"

Goverman:"But the fucken bullet Williams come flying out of fucking nowhere"

Maria:"The next second you're in a universe where everything that exists is the sick bastard child of a drunken fuckfest between a pin screen and a light brush"

Bolivia:"Ask the cashier if they have a granade, if they say no, say nothing for a few seconds, put a big smile, put your hands on theirs and quietly ask, would you like one?"

Sean hampton:"Can't do anything until I have my arms around a fat man"

Barbie:"The premise of this run is that I have no arms and I must dab"

Maria's son:"I told you before that I was a genetic disaster"

Bolivia:"And in that cabin, theres some west Virginian mountain folk who are so deep in incest that one of them somehow managed to be his own father"

Bolivia:"Can you hear that? It's…. It's an air conditioner! And it's so fucking anoying, aw no I hurt it's feelings :( "

Goverman:"He could probably put the end of his musket inside his mouth, pull the trigger and still miss"

Barney one:"The big beaver ended his life in stile, he even made a summersault into the afterlife"

Goverman:"Im a good Christian boy, I'll save my ammo for my suicide"

Carbon:"I am not Cinderella, I'm a parasite"

IDK"I played with a doggy too, it used the flesh on my arm as a chew toy, and I booked his nose with a nuclear newspaper to show that that kind of thing isn't allowed in the mitten squad household"

Sean hampton:"The crusable is a magical weapon like divorce papers, capable of tearing everything it comes across in half"

Barbie:"The curse of grandma sparkle managed to reach me all the way in hell"

Barney one:"If you are gonna get a cat, you might get a gun aswell"

Belize:"Corn on the Joe sat back not helping his brother's"

Carbon:"I bought 24 regular bullets,28 hollow points, and 60 that need to wear a helmet"

Bolivia:"After the squad died I had to content with the leftovers, the scraps, statically speaking the majority of what remained"

Lewis:"What I need to face is like a toddler with a learning disability, that would be fair"

Carbon:"I took both left eyes of this dead guy "

Carbon:"It took longer to pull out the Esther than it took of kill the general"

Sushiya, while high:"Deeper inside shit got weird, i killed a giant skeleton right? Nothing weird about that, but then his body just kinda danced in place really slowly, I tought speeding up time would fix it, that was a massive fucking mistake, and changing time back to normal was an even bigger mistake, he'll be hunting me until I die, but until then he'll still be dancing"

CAPTAINSAUCE SEGMENT

Carbon:"They're old, how hard can it be to turn them into blueberry jam and ram them into the grass"

Belize:"I guess if you do electrocute a tank enough it would just explode"

Boliviz:"Id have a better chance of finding a snowball down here than winning a coin toss"

Marc:"How does my Christmas lights break to a stiff breeze but these ones are practically terminators"

Barney one:"I never tought id see the day where I would have to hire a sniper to assassinate a troublesome light bulb but here we are "

Lewis:"I get the feeling if you try to milk a minotaur then you're gonna be its wife"

Sushiya:"In the history of mankind do you think we've ever seen a snake fight an octopus?"

Goverman:"Lets see if you can wobble your way trough the grim reaper" [the grim being carbon]

Goldbob:"Its a steaming pile of something ill tell you that much"

Goverman:"He died? How! Did he have an allergic reaction to the sun?"

Goomb:"Michelangelo is Swiss cheese and where good to go"

Bolivia:"It really looks like I'm taking a sharpened stick to a bazooka fight"

Maria:"HOW DID I GO FROM FIGHTING AN OCTOPUS IN A SUIT TO WW3???"

Princess of peaches, talking about 1TEC-20:"Im playing pictionary with a blind robot"

maria:"Theres on the nose dialogue and then there's punch you in the nose dialogue"

Bolivia, talking about barney one:"This lady looks like her father was half refrigerator"

IDK"Im supposed to sabotage the mail missile assembly line but it looks like someone got here before me"

Belize?:"And the ghosts of previously murdered pianos???"

Maria:"Im getting outsmarted by puppets"

Bolivia:"After careful deliberation with my associate we've come to the conclusion that the local government must have Removed all quarters from circulation, the laundromat went under and before you know it the entire society fell into nudism and then anarchy "

Carbon?:"This is like the hunger games of sesame street"

IDK"Im a weird shotgun santa"

Garlic?:"Oh damm! CTHULO IS THICC"

Krump:"What kind of interdimensional time traveling toilet is this?"

Carbon:"Wheater it be cultural appropriation or demonic abomination, i don't realy care im just gonna try to hit it with a pee bucket"

Carbon:"THIS IS THE MEDIEVAL RUSSIAN VERSION OF DRIVING INTO BATTLE WITH A TANK BUT SHOOT PEOPLE WITH A BB GUN"

Belize::"I DIDN'T KNOW GRANNY WAS TAKING GRAVEDIGGER TO CHURCH THIS MORNING"

Goombell:"This isn't a bridge its just the worlds weakest motorcycle trebuchet "

Bolivia:"Oh hellow mr berry"

Carbon:"Giant alien space worm 2020, make America worm poop again"

Bolivia:"When did snuffy[barney one] decide to judas me and join the hobbits?[origamis]"

Lewis:"Theres a surprisingly high amount of chickens in this map and a dramatic lack of eggs"

Bolivia:"Im pretty sure we've sent the first claim to the moon"

Maria:"And yet I'm forced to defend myself from stuff like bloodthirsty scp's using nothing but uncooked t-bone stake, I mean technically its doable but it doesn't make It any less ridiculous"

Barbie:"What's the point of a metal detector if literally everyone here has somekind of cybernetic, like I swear to God If I walk trough here aND you guys start pounding the shit out of me just because I got a couple of extra inches of robo-dong IM GONNA BE PISSED"

Bolivia:"Everyone's wearing slick black suits meanwhile I look like somebody skinned a couch from the 70s"

Sushiya:"Is this bacon flavored weed or weed flavored bacon?"

Sean hampton:"Do you think that Darth Vader ever had to deal with a rebel or a henchmen who was into getting chocked? Like starts force checking them and they tell him to go harder?"

Koopley:"I was stabbed to death by a naked man with a spear and my arm is perpetually running"

Koop kotu:"So I'm crazy enough to be locked behind bars but not crazy enough to think I can fly*

Bolivia:"Usually spooders have 8 arms not 8 abs"

Carbon:"I just bludgeoned Jesus to death with a stick of meat, I'm guessing he's gonna be back in a couple of days he's gonna be looking for me so we'll start running now"

Carbon:"Im done with words, shooty goody time"

Maria?:"Id have a better time cutting down bushes then these strange little robo hobits"

Belize:"Dad this is not the time to be dancing with crabs!"

Maria:"Thats my little brother, who has a fully posable deny devito action figure,I've always been jealous of that one"

Bolivia:"The turns are tabbleling"

Maria, talking about barbie:"She's not exactly the brightest tool at the picnic"

Belize:"Are you kidding me mom? Realy?, you were the one that said you're sick of seeing donkey kongs donkey dong"

Maria:"I have no idea what was in that Wonster energy drink that made him go master roshe style"

Bolivia:"I want to file a complaint against Stacy [belize] for T-posing to assert Dominance over me"

Marc:"Believe it or not dangling a padlock the size of a shoebox from a doorknob does as much work as I want to"

Caesar reality:"You can never have too many rotten floor bananas"

Carbon:"Poisoning your boss is probably not the best way to skip work, but ya boy gotta do what he has to do"

Goverman:"I'll take nicknames of my penis for 300$ alex"

Starvinden?:"I guess we'll just leave you in your special sarcophagus mr tutan-deez-nuts"[browser]

Lewis:"I've been skipping work for 2 weeks now and I'm starting to think that my computer isn't even plugged in"

Bolivia, talking to maria:"Your suit smells like a wet fart and your mouth smells like a ashtray"

Bolivia:"If anyone needs me I'll be on the insane asylum, why am I caressing a mannequin on top of a boat?"

Carbon:"Would you like to hang yourself or be crucified? Dealers choice!"

Bolivia talking about carbon:"He's doing something ingenious probably diabolical……..or he's dressed as a panda"

Marc:"We should really pay for security around here not only are people breaking in there is also a giant spine breaking chickens"

Maria to Bolivia:"You are very angry at that stake"

Sushiya, after using its products:"I wonder why was I twerking at the office statue"

IDK"WHY IS THERE A GIANT NAKED MAN IN THE LOCKER CHOCKING ME TO DEATH WITH A CHAIN??!!!"

goombell:"I guess we're gonna leave the cookie monster dildo in the locker"

Sean hampton, to Maria:"My love for you is like diarrhea, sometimes I just can't hold it in"

Bolivia:"You're watching me In a Google video platform playing a game from a Google gaming platform that was translated using Google translate, if this isn't a dystopian future I don't know what is"

Bolivia?:"I couldn't have predicted the run after her like a velociraptor made out of pool noodles"

Lewis:"Jumping Jack neighbor help me!"

Bolivia:"Bread! There's no bread,there's your bread! That's a cookie God dammit"

Belize:"So I can be invited to the worlds saddest birthday party"

Maria:"I guess we're playing ring around the Rosie till I lose his dumb ass"

Carbon:"If you see jehovah's witness you tell them to eat shit"

Bolivia:"HOW CAN YOU AFFORD A GUARD BIRD AND NOT A DOOR STOP?"

Bolivia::"For my shopping list I need to find a floppy disk with a s, but for the distraction I could use a floppy dick with sunglasses and a tie"

Carbon:"I really hoped that your little bird bath had a couple inches of water so I could steal a tiny toaster to throw it in with you"

Belize::"Its pretty safe to say Mr voice bad Benjamin good, but we just saw Benjamin talk with the grim reaper and pull around a cart wich is about the size of a child's body"

Goombell:"She may have a crush on the interdimensional death fox"

Maria:"Its like the herpes of craft supplies"

Barney one:"Everyone wants to split checks for keano Reaves, even if they're a 10ft dragon made out of logos and seizures what is going on right now?"

Sushiya, high, again:"When I dilapidated the banana and poked the mayo's brain then had an indept conversation with the strawberry cocoon did bread get arrested? I didn't see the police come by, that would make sense because the alcoholic cat ran away"

Carbon:"IF THEY HAVE AN ASS TO PULL PUNS OUT OF THEY HAVE TO HAVE A BRAIN TO THINK THEM UP"

Goombell:"I think I graduated for the university of food torture"

Well, this is all, took some time but it's here, hope you enjoyed

Frequent reblogers

<《{[(@boom-fanfic-a-latta )]}》>

<《{[( @gumdorp )]}》>

PLEASE REBLOG!

#funny #mario #paper mario #book of mario #bolivia #mary #barbie the bob omb #1000 infernal air sleeves #quotes #captainsauce #mitten squad #paul #goomb #goverman #goombell #carbon

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galaxymysteryelephant · 3 years

Text

The Start of Something New

The first chapter is also available on ao3 here.

Part one

---

“Anakin, I am going to put on some tea. Would you like a cup?” Ben asks his brother.

“No, I am alright. Thanks anyways,” Anakin shouts from the living room of Ben’s apartment. “What kind of movie are you feeling this afternoon? Action or comedy?”

“Action, I guess,” Ben answers as he puts the kettle onto the stove.

The ringing of a phone draws Ben’s attention away from prepping his tea. The caller ID on the phone almost makes his heart stop.

Shit. Rex is calling me. I told him to only call me if he wanted to cancel. Is he going to cancel the date altogether or want to reschedule?

The ringing stops. Silence fills the space for a minute before Ben's phone starts ringing again. And without looking at the caller ID, Ben knows it is Rex.

Why couldn't he just text me? Doesn't he know it is easier to deal with rejection when you cannot hear the other person's voice?

“Would you answer your phone, Ben?” Anakin shouts.

Ben pulls himself from his panicked state of mind to answer the phone. The only way to know why he is calling is to talk to him.

“Hello,” Ben answers the phone.

“Hey Ben,” Rex says. “I woke up a while ago and I realized I forgot to ask you if you had any food allergies that I need to know about.”

Ben releases a breath he didn’t realize he was holding. He didn’t call to cancel. He just wants to know if I have allergies. What a relief.

“None that I am aware of,” Ben answers.

“Why do you sound all panicked?” Rex asks.

“I do not,” Ben states.

“Did you forget that I work as a firefighter? I can tell when someone is panicked, it is all about the inflection in their voice. You have that inflection. So, what has got you panicked?” Rex asks.

“I thought you were calling to cancel or reschedule,” Ben admits.

The kettle boils to a whistle signalling that his water is ready. Ben makes his way over to the stove to get it but Anakin waves him off. Ben watches as his brother pours the water into a mug with a tea bag and sets it on the counter to steep. “Who is on the phone?” Anakin mouths. Ben ignores him in favor of talking to Rex.

“You really think I would have called to cancel or reschedule?” Rex asks a hurt tone in his voice.

“Well, I hoped not. But what else was I to think when we agreed that you would call only if you were not feeling up to hosting.”

Rex laughs and Ben can hear the warmth in his tone through the speaker. “I see. I apologize for causing you panic then. But just know that I wouldn’t dream of cancelling tonight.”

“And why is that?” Ben asks.

“Because I have been trying to get a date with you for a long time now.”

“Will you be up for entertaining tonight?” Ben looks at his watch and catches that it is 2:30pm. “It has only been about four hours. Are you sure you got enough sleep?”

“Yeah, I am fine. Trust me when I say that four hours is a good night sleep for me,” Rex states. He is quiet on the other line of the phone for a moment. “What would you like for dinner?”

“What were you planning on making me?” Ben asks in lieu of answering the question.

“I was thinking of doing a Maori boil-up.”

“What is that?” Ben asks curiously.

“It is when you boil meat and vegetables together in a large pot of water. You can use any kind of meat, but I was thinking of doing chicken. I mean, who doesn’t like chicken?” There is a pause as Rex waits for Ben to voice his dissent. When he doesn't Rex continues, “For the vegetables I was thinking watercress, potatoes, carrots, cabbage, and kumara.”

“Kumara?” Ben asks, unfamiliar with the vegetable name Rex used.

“Oh, sweet potatoes,” Rex answers. “Does that sound of interest to you? If not, I can make something else.”

“That sounds perfect,” Ben answers. “Are you positive you do not want me to bring dessert?”

“Yah nah,” Rex replies. Before Ben can ask what that means, Rex’s smooth voice comes over his speaker. “I was going to make pavlova; it is a meringue filled with whipped cream and fruit.”

“That sounds delicious,” Ben states. He can already feel his mouth watering. “I cannot wait,” he admits after a moment.

“Neither can I,” Rex states. “I guess I should let you go. I need to make a quick run to the store to get some things, anyways. I will see you tonight.”

“I will see you at 6,” Ben says. He hangs up the phone and has a huge smile across his face.

“Who was that on the phone?” Anakin asks his brother. Anakin is leaning against the kitchen counter and leveling his brother with a stare.

“A guy I have a date with tonight,” Ben answers as he grabs his mug of tea and takes it to the living room with his brother on his heels.

“You are going on a date, like an actual date?” Anakin asks disbelievingly as he takes a seat on the couch.

“We are having dinner at his apartment. And I am pretty sure we are just going to hang out.” Ben takes a seat next to Anakin and catches the look of disappointment on his brother's face. “What?”

“You are going to his apartment?”

“Yeah,” Ben states.

“How well do you know this guy?”

“I have known him for a while now,” Ben states.

It isn’t really a lie but it isn’t the whole truth either. Ben has been frequenting the cafe that Rex’s runs with his brother for quite some time now but he actually doesn’t know much about the man himself. All Ben knows is what he learned earlier that morning: Rex is a firefighter; works at the coffee shop with his brother; is gay; and has never been in a relationship because he puts his work first.

Does that mean that Rex has not had any casual relationships? Is he a virgin?

“If you have known him for a while now, how come this is the first time I am hearing about him?” Anakin questions.

“This is the first time he asked me out,” Ben states matter of factly.

“Have I met him?” Anakin questions.

“I don’t know,” Ben answers truthfully.

“Can I have a name?”

“No,” Ben replies.

“Why?”

“Because I know that when I do give it to you, you will do a background check on him.”

“And what is wrong with that?” Anakin asks. “Is it too bad to want to know what kind of person my brother is dating?”

“No, I know you are just looking out for me. But sometimes you take it too far.”

“What do you mean?”

“There was that one girl that I was seeing who claimed you harassed her through social media. And that is just one of many examples.”

“I wasn’t harassing her, I was just asking her questions,” Anakin retorts. “There is a difference.”

“Either way, you made her uncomfortable.” Ben looks to his younger brother and gives him a smile. “I don’t want you to scare this guy away. He is very nice and is the first person that I can actually see a future with. Please do not ruin this for me.”

“Alright,” Anakin agrees. Several moments of silence pass between the brothers before Anakin admits, “I still do not agree with you having a first date at his place.”

“And why is that?”

“Because you don’t really know him. What if he is a serial killer? Or a rapist?”

“I am pretty sure he is neither of those things, Anakin.”

“You aren’t really making me feel any better. There is a difference between pretty sure and definitely sure.” Anakin levels his brother with a glare, “And I need you to be definitely sure.”

“Anakin, I am positive that he is not a serial killer or a rapist. He is far too nice for that.”

“Still worried. And you do know that being far too nice isn’t a good thing, right? It means he is hiding something.”

“You are overreacting, Anakin. He is a nice man and has a kind heart.”

“If he is so nice, why was he insistent that the first date take place in his apartment?”

“He was overworked and exhausted when I saw him earlier. He wants to be comfortable in case he falls asleep while we are hanging out,” Ben answers.

“You do know that more effort probably goes into having someone over than it does going out, right? I mean, he needs to clean his place and make dinner. If he was truly exhausted he wouldn’t be up for hosting. It is kind of suspicious to me.”

Ben averts his gaze from his brother and stares out the window.

I wasn’t thinking about any of that. I was just too excited at the prospect of going on a date with Rex that I didn’t take his exhaustion into account. I was the one who was insistent that we hang out tonight, and he was just too polite to turn me down.

Did I make more work for him by agreeing to go over his place? I mean, he wouldn’t have offered to have me over if it was going to be too much for him, would he?

Ben looks at his brother, “You may have a point on that,” he admits quietly. “But I think he just wants to have a quiet evening in, where we can talk uninterrupted.”

“Just be careful, Ben.”

“Always, dear brother. But I can assure you no harm will befall me.”

“Alright,” Anakin relents. A moment of silence passes between them before Anakin asks, “Do you still want to watch a movie? Or do you want to get ready for your date?”

“We can watch a movie, Anakin,” Ben states.

#star wars #the clone wars #obi-wan kenobi #anakin skywalker #captain rex #obi-wan/rex #modern au #my writing #galaxymysteryelephant writes

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wrctings · 4 years

Text

Bill Guarnere x Reader | Not without you

i really wanted to write about bill (of course all my respect goes to the real veteran, this is only based on the show) ❣️ warnings: cursing, strong language

It is with an irritated grunt that you hoist yourself upon one of the stools facing the bar, the heavy sigh that erupts from the depths of your irked mood shattering the frisky and overly-joyful atmosphere that came with off-duty nights of such kind. Under different circumstances, you were certain to have wholeheartedly relished in whatever celebration your friends were engaged in, either joining a heated game of darts — always resulting in the trade of many packs of cigarettes before a crowd of sprightly figures —, or partaking in an often drunken yet dedicated rendition of a song you do not always know the precise lyrics of. But on that evening, even as you recognise many bright faces that you trusted unquestionably and would be sure to spend a good time with among the swarm of uniforms, the exuberant force that would have pulled you straight to them had been receding due the very cause of your acrimony. Namely, Bill Guarnere.

Even though the black-haired man has not yet noticed your coming in, busy downing a beer to Joe Toye and Babe Heffron’s cheering, you had made sure to pinpoint his exact location so as to contrive better ways to escape from the Sergeant’s attention. If you weren’t going to enjoy your night as plentifully as you would have without the incident that had caused your rancour, at least you would rather do so out of sight from the one who ruined it for you.

“Why the long face, Sergeant?”

You dismally swing around your stool, meeting George Luz’s playful grin. As he takes a better look at your indeed disheartened expression, your friend sits beside you, repeating in his best Cpt. Sobel voice:

“Sergeant, if you disobey a direct order by not telling me what’s going on, I’ll cancel all of your weekend passes. Forever.”

With George’s sudden materialisation and comforting humour, your spirits raise slightly and you even crack a smile, catching the gleeful twinkle in the soldier’s eyes. And yet, even with the effervescent talking pounding against your eardrums and the strong wafts of alcohol intertwined with smoke inundating the room from all parts, synonymous to the parties you took such delight in after days of combat and agonising battling against your own fear and torment, you still don’t feel like leaving your corner. In addition to this, Luz’s casual kindness only increases your resentment toward Guarnere.

“What the hell is a weekend pass anyway?” you shoot back, half-amused. Ever since Easy Company made their jump in Normandy, weeks ago, Toccoa Camp and Captain Sobel’s tantrums have seemed so far away. ‘Going back’ now refers to Albourne, which, although not quite being home, nonetheless became a place whose name resonated with a sense of warmth that is always welcome after days of duty.

George makes his pint of beer slide toward you on the surface of the bar counter, as though attempting to cheer you up differently as he notices that your state of mind hasn’t grown much merrier. “Drink up, Y/n. What’s the matter with you? Go get shit-faced while you still can,” he encourages you in a manner not at all subtle.

“Thanks, George.” You comply, thankful, and take a gulp from his drink — the stream of alcohol prickles the inside of your mouth, its hardly-resistible appeal already enticing you to take another sip. “I won’t give this back to you, you know that, right?”

“How dare you, Sergeant, this is United States army property!” The man doesn’t lose an occasion to impersonate Sobel again, this time succeeding in extracting a laugh from you.

“There you are!”

Your attention then gets drawn by another silhouette emerging from the mass of clustered soldiers, striding toward Luz and you while clutching an empty pint of beer in each hand.

“Hey, it’s Joe Toye himself!” George heartily pats his friend on the back. “Coming back for more?”

“Hell yeah,” the other man approves, slamming his load of glasses upon the piece of furniture before him. “Get me another drink, will you?” He shouts toward the man behind the bar, signaling for the private to get him a refill, before turning to you. “So, what are you doing here?” he inquired, bemused. “Why aren’t you out there partying? By that time of the night we’re usually third-wheeling for you and Garno.”

“What?” you almost choke on your beer, staring at Toye in bewilderment.

“Cut the crap, Y/n, we all know about you and Bill,” Joe rolls his eyes, smiling slyly. “He won’t stop looking around any chance he gets, so you better get your ass up there before he loses it.”

“Well why don’t he? If he likes replacing me so much, why don’t he j*rks himself off on his own.” Your stark reply startles both your friends, though Luz interrupts the bitter trail of thoughts that is already running through your mind again.

“What the hell happened back there?” he asks incredulously, taken aback by the sharpness of your tone.

“Shit, I think I know what this is about,” Joe sighs, even ignoring the beers that were just delivered to him. He frowns, trying to piece back together what he thinks may be the reason for your tartness. “Last time we were out fighting Guarno went outta his way to do something Y/n was ordered to. He got yelled at by Lipton for that. Come to think of it, I haven’t seen you with us ever since. Not when Bill was around, at least. Is that what’s going on?”

“I—”

“Y/n,” George cut you off insistently, having payed attention to the story. “We already got Krauts tryina kill us, it ain’t gonna make it any easier if some of us turn against each other. Let’s go have fun, okay?” he beseeches you and Toye, glancing at the bustling room.

“Fine, but he ain’t off the hook,” you consented on reflection, seizing the pint that you’ve monopolised from Luz as you hopped off your chair. Now that your friends are by your side, the prospect of facing Bill doesn’t seem as tedious — wickedly tempting, even. You want to come clean with him, to spit out every ounce of anger you’ve been harbouring in his face, or simply ignore him until he isn’t able to take it any longer. Either way, you want to hurt him as much as he hurt you, belittling you in the line of duty without an explanation, without a single word to explain what was going on. If he can push you around this easily, making you look like you aren’t able to handle the situation on your own, then you have nothing to do with him anymore.

“Just try not to kill him right away,” Joe swiftly turns around to give you a quick smile as you follow the two men through the room to the clinking of glass. “We still need men to fight the war, remember?”

Alongside Toye and Luz, you find your way toward the table Babe, Guarnere and Johnny are established at, drinking and talking loudly while their sentences are punctuated by sniggers and exclamations.

“I found some friends of ours who got lost, had to show ‘em the way,” Joe announces humorously as your party stops in its tracks, greeting your fellow paratroopers. You act carefully as to ignore Bill’s gaze, only giving Johnny and Babe a pleased smile, and keep on standing by Luz without coming any closer to Guarnere.

Though a small part of you is itching to witness the puzzled look that makes its way upon the Sergeant’s face when you don’t return his salutation, you refuse to yield to further temptation and join George and Babe’s discussion instead. You hope to make Bill understand that as long as he doesn’t apologise — or at least tries to vindicate his action, if it is possible —, you are going to act as if nothing had ever gone down between you two. But the truth is, some things have gone down between the two of you, which makes it even harder to stifle the painful feeling that you’ve been carrying around ever since your return to England. The faded touch of Guarnere’s lips still haunts yours, the dimmed feel of his hands still runs along your back. Yet the desire to feel them again is checked by the flashing picture of him departing on the double as you and Carwood exchanged a dismayed look, Bill shouting that he could take care of it just as you were about to obey Lipton’s command. Does he really deem you unable to manoeuvre NT? You don’t know how to else construe his gesture — he must have known what he was doing, because you have never ever since anyone else behave this way on the front line. In the field, you do as you are ordered to, without questioning whom your CO delegates tasks.

“Hey, Y/n! D’you remember how that song Babe was hummin’ in his sleep went? When we were in the truck.” Guarnere’s voice however reaches you at last, and this time you have no choice but to finally set your eyes upon him with a glare, sparing him none of your displeasure.

“No,” you answer curtly, shifting your attention back onto whatever Luz is saying. But you do recall how the song went, and your heart falters a little when you imagine Bill’s optimism dying out, the man’s speech growing quieter. If only you could resent him as intensely as he upset you.

You keep your interactions with Bill’s corner of the table to a minimum throughout the evening. Although you have eventually relaxed enough to actually take an active part in the chattering all around you, mostly laughing along and sharing anecdotes with Babe and Luz — who are further away from Guarnere —, your pride is still hurt from the latter’s lack of account for his actions. You had confided in Bill how arduous it had been for you to find a place in the army, let alone rise through the ranks, so his carelessness digs particularly deeply into your sensitivity. He, of all people, should have known how hard you tried, and yet he had disregarded it by treating you as if you weren’t capable enough.

“Well, boys, some people care about a good night’s sleep, so I’m heading off,” you finally declared after finishing your second pint of bear, stretching your arms out before you depart.

“Already, Sarge? Who knows when we’ll get another night like this,” George tries to change your mind, slightly wavering from tipsiness and exhilaration. “C’mon, we ain’t gotta jump tomorrow.”

“Yes, George, but I feel like you’ll end up jumping from tables in a few hours, and I don’t wanna break my neck joining ya,” you joked, patting your friend on the back. “Good night boys, take it easy.”

“Yes Ma’am,” Babe chuckled, contradictorily taking another sip from his drink. “Good night, Y/n. Don’t let the drunks hook up with you on the way.”

“There’s no chance.”

You spin on your heels after wishing your friend to have a good end of night, then heading toward the exit the room while navigating between the tables and inebriated groups of soldiers stumbling by, and disappear inside the corridor meant to lead you outside the building. As the English family that you are quartered with lives nearby, sneaking into their house this late at night isn’t a problem as long as you remain discreet.

When the door closes on you, the buzzing sound of the bubbling men you left behind is still ringing in your ears and the faint smell of smoke hasn’t quite dispersed yet, echoes from the on-going party reverberating in the empty corridor. The aftertaste of alcohol is still burning your tongue, but you shiver, away from the warmth of the packed room where elation is chasing the Battalion’s fears and concerns away — far, far away.

However, you don’t get much time by yourself as the thumping of footsteps arising from the direction you left draws your attention, making you turn around to get yourself acquainted with whoever else is roaming the hallway. You cannot help but scowl as you recognise the man: you didn’t know whether you expected anything from Bill, but now seems to be the time to find out.

“Y/n, wait,” he calls out for you, so you stop — now could be the time to finally get everything off your chest. As he levels with you, Guarnere’s expression appears defensive, worked up. “What the hell is going on with you?” he asks abruptly, and your eyes anchor into each other’s at last. Your anger swells, enlarged by his unawareness.

“What the hell is going on with me?” You snap in response, the muscles of your body stiffening as you attempt to keep yourself steady.

“Yes, what’s your fucking problem!” he immediately retorts, eyebrows severely knitted together. “Why are you avoiding me?”

“I’m sorry Bill, I thought you were too busy trying to prove everyone how tough you are and how good you are and doing other people’s jobs!” you bite back, unable to quench your outburst of rage. “If you think I’m only worth fucking, you better get the hell out of here immediately. Go get laid with someone else, because I was clearly mistaken about you.”

“What the hell are you talking about?” You can see that Bill is still mad, but confusion mixes in with his aggressive comeback as he tries to make sense of your answer. “I don’t fucking get it!”

“Oh, cut the crap. Like doing my job in my place is not a clear message! I’m perfectly capable of getting TNT on my own, Guarnere,” you stated in a more controlled, but deadlier tone. “I don’t need you to think of me as someone in need of your assistance.”

“Fuck, this is why you’ve been acting so weird?” He understand with a movement from the head, jaw clenched tightly, but his gaze then sets back onto your face.

“Yes, that’s precisely why,” you start again before he gets the chance to defend himself. “If you really think that I can’t handle things on my own in the field, then you’re wrong.”

“I didn’t do it because I thought you couldn’t!” The dark-haired man exclaims indignantly, the modulation of his voice stronger.

“Then what is it? Why the fuck is it, Bill, because I don’t understand!”

“I didn’t go out there because I thought you couldn’t handle it!” He repeats, driven by a virulent impulse. “I did it because that field was brimming with Kraut artillery, and I couldn’t stand the goddamn thought of seeing you collapse among all the other dead bodies!”

His words hit you so forcefully that your next sentence gets caught in your throat, leaving you speechless for the first since Guarnere has joined you. I couldn’t stand the goddamn thought of seeing you collapse among all the other dead bodies.

“That’s right,” The Sergeant continues less harshly, catching his breath. “I ran for that TNT instead of you because I didn’t want you to get killed. There, are you happy now?” Too taken aback to come to your senses right away, you process what Bill is saying. You’ve never heard him confess that he cared about you this much before, though your affection and attachement toward each other have been undeniable. “Don’t ever think that I might consider you a lesser soldier than any of the men in this company,” he goes on, intensely looking into your face. “I damn well know what you’re worth. And...” he hesitates, somewhat flustered, but finally opens his mouth again. “I’m sorry if I hurt you.”

As Bill speaks, the violent emotions that had previously got a hold of you evolve into something else — something even stronger. Something that drives you to him, that makes you want to stand by his side before the entire world, that reminds you more than ever of all the times you have looked at him, and seen a form of reassurance that you never found anywhere else. He takes a step toward you.

“You can’t die for me, Bill. You can’t. I don’t want to lose you either. But we’re done being stupid now, okay?” you whisper, unable to yell anymore while tears are threatening to well up as you cup his face in your hands. All that you feel at once completely throws you off balance, seemingly both emotionally and physically. “There’s enough fighting out there already.”

“We’re done being stupid.” Guarnere’s voice is now barely more audible than yours, and his comforting touch is soothing you down when he feels like it is safe enough to get closer. “I don’t want to do this without you,” he says.

You kiss, his hands running through your hair as you let yourself go to him, pressed against the comforting steadiness of his chest, the fabric of his uniform filled with the warmth of his body. After such a tumultuous night, exhaustion doesn’t take long to descend upon you, but what hits you most is another sudden realisation — you are falling in love with Bill Guarnere. You have been for days.

The dark-haired man takes you into his arms after your lips break apart, hugging you tightly as he kisses the top of your head, and holds you closely. “Do you wanna go to sleep?” he murmurs, feeling you fully lean into him. “I can walk you to your house, or I know a spot where no one will walk on us.”

“Let’s do that,” you approve against his torso, before adding: “I want to be with you.” You want him to know how much you care about him too.

“Okay, then come with me. No one should be able to find us.” He takes your hand, leading you through the dark, and is cautious to make sure that you aren’t seen.

Later that might, when you finally fall asleep, it is by Bill’s side. And, long after your eyes are shut and sleepiness has taken you both into its realm, you can still unconsciously feel the man’s heart beating inside his chest, pressed against your back.

#bill guarnere #bill guarnere x reader #bill guarnere imagine #band of brothers #band of brothers fanfiction #BoB #writing #bandofbrothers #band of brothers imagines #my writing

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seedleaflesssapling · 3 years

Text

Ver 2.0? Turning Point?

I can't really identify to which point in my life that i started to doubt myself but im pretty sure that it was because of UP. Damn, that school, my uni. It do really have the ability to make you feel small; i was in a disadvantaged side when i entered it, you know. I was acquainted, no we did not really talked one-on-one, but i heard when we did introductions - Pisay, UP High, science comprehensive schools, Xavier University, who wouldn't be intimidated by that when you came from Col. Ruperto Abellon National School (who would know where that is? I was lucky enough for a teacher recognized it and my classmates be like 'ahhhhhh,' .....really?! I dont even know where xavier is, it just sounds cool). Another thing is that, i wasn't a stem shs graduate - a leverage(?) or excuse (?) that i always use for them to know that i am at disadvantaged side here, not their competitor, probably a NOBODY. They, being stem graduates, have capstone projects you never thought that they have at that age, but i would hear them saying that it was publish in this journal (whatever, idk the journals lmao, i dont even understand their studies 2nd lmao, but that was some smart shit you know, a shit that makes me feel pathetic for being too proud of my what? Correlational study from inconsistent surveys?!!! Wtf, wtf, wtf). But it was a very good peer pressure you know, i kinda turned it that way. Being left behind, being on the rock bottom, i have no other place to go but up. It wasn't the goal, like making or taking the top spot, i just need to survive.

Inevitably, the exams came. I had hard time adjusting chem but math was kind to me. Who would have thought that i would get two 1.0 at my math subjects for the first semester, the sem that i thought i would barely pass. I was even a CS for that sem. Who would have thought? Our first chemical engineering subject that involves computations was on the list the next semester and the first exam, out of 100 i got something like 20ish. WTF. THAT WAS MY FIRST FAILED EXAM. but no, never did cry but tears were flooding inside. So apparently, i have to focus more on this subject and i did. Some were still failing, but i raised my average up. We also had physics, my first ever physics. I really love physics that time or that sir rommel is just a very good professor. I got the highest score on our second LE, everybody else did fail. Small victories. Not that they lose, but i just won. But i heard one time they were talking about me re: passing the physics exam and even getting a high score. They were uhm.. a guy i really look up to cause his good, the other was a girl that idk but i think she didn't like me back then. They were friends but eventually the girl transferred uni because who cares why. i heard the guy saying something like sin.o gid na si franklin nga taas iya score man, maybe even worse than that, i still look up to the guy even until now. But wtf. I really took it in that time, like i wanted to cry but did not. With all that, i got a fair grade at physics. I still got 1.0 at maths that sem and even maintained being on the CS list. S M I L E. BECAUSE WE HAVE A MIDYEAR CLASS. VERY EXHAUSTING FOR SOMEONE WHO DONT WANT ANYTHING BUT JUST ADJUST, SURVIVE, AND FIND MEANING OF BEING A UP STUDENT. It was just one subject and it was math, but i got 2.0?!!! I have no excuse to that, i am very grateful for the family who accommodated me. After midyear class, i did got sick, it sucks, really sucks. I wanted to file an LOA for the next academic year, it is the only thing i can think of for me to go back on track (i haven't said that my parents pushed me to graduate with latin honor and i wanted to also for my resume to look good because everything else in me is effed up). I really wanted to pause and be free for a while but i also wanted to graduate on time (mostly because i want to give the bitches who dared to have expectations be put on my shoulders not the satisfaction, but the audacity to tell them 'i aint did it for ya') so i asked mama. THANK GOD, SHE DID SAY NA KUNG ANO LANG KAYA MO, AMO LANG DA IH 😭😭🤧🤧 so i enrolled, but went to school late, haven't attended the school opening but all is good. I did kind of reset, just enough for me to face school again.

Second year, it was fucked. I did really love coding on octave and doing sheets at ms excel though. On that year, we have formed the che 103 bagsak group. Together with two of my classmates on 103 and math 55, we became buddies after failing che 103 on the first LE, another 30 over 100 exam hahahahaha. We made bawi just enough for us to pass the subject hahahahahuhu. I have thermodynamics sub, i barely pass. Thank G na wala ko nag removal. If ever i did, i am so sure that i wont make it. My GWA for that sem was not enough for me to be a CS. Who cares? I still did, actually but mama was never been too pushy since then, even since after midyear, after getting that 2.0 grade from the only subject i am good at. Btw, my math 55 for first sem, second year, was 1.25. Not a 1.0 but still, it's good. Second semester that year was when pandemic hit so there's nothing much to tell. I was, sorry but i was really, glad to be away from school for a while, not until for a while became forever. Virtual university set-up was very hard. With too much from taking in whatever i see and hear on my surroundings, even just at home, everything is difficult. It is very hard to find motivation and discipline in studying when i was surrounded with people who do nothing. Even to this point i am writing, everyday is like a battle, but is mostly an internal one. Self vs self, a war no one knows who will win. So the confidence, the tower of knowledge i did build, exponentially went down. I did really well when i was in grade 10, i did my best that time and it can be seen at the achievements i had that year. Being consistently on top 1 the whole year, placing second on division MMC (even getting the highest score on the written elimination round for the whole cluster), doing well sa physics under maam andico, placings on cluster journalism competitions - it was like a record best, best record (?) Whatever. But it wasn't enough you know, i eventually came fourth like wtf. I had read from somewhere Newton saying like the two years when he did write the three laws of motion and the calculus stuff were the two best years of his life, and it kept me thinking that what if mine already passed? That it was when i was in high school?

But, back when i was in school, every time that i was belittling myself or even at random times that i would feel nervous for nothing, my classmates and close friends would say na:

Uno mo man ang Math, uno mo na na (it was a one or two time thing, what if chamba lang to???)

Ikaw man highest sa first le sa thermo (it was really an absolutely one time thing, i barely passed that sub)

Alam ka man sa physics (i was just invested on physics and maybe nachambahan lang na ang ginpractice ko solve kay parallel sa exam ni sir)

Alam ka, d ka lang confident (OKAY???!)

I was ignoring those shit cause who cares if i did really good that time. Yeah, it felt good but it wasn't fulfilling. Satisfied but not happy. But with recent events, i think i would be changing. This post will be a written contract that i will push to be better, to start trusting myself, and build that confidence glow behind me; to believe that i am bright and i can hack it, whatever it may be.

For coherence, i would itemize na lang all of the events that brought me to epiphany lol

It was Friday, 17 Sep, when Dean, in our plant design subject, gave an activity for us - to come up with solutions that would address problems he presented. 1 off grid island community (either you address the water, electricity, and phone reception/signal problem under a 100k budget) and 2 vinegar packaging with a 500 mL volume and should cost less than the cost of vinegar. The due's on Monday, 20 Sep. The challenge is that you should come up with an idea that is not the same with those who already turned in their proposed solutions. I haven't turned in mine until Sunday afternoon. We are 23 in class, hence there should be 23 proposed solutions for each problem. However, only 20 or 21 turned in their solutions and as a student who decided to do it three days after the sheet was given, i was at the second to the last of the entries hahaha. I have limited choice since a lot have been proposed. And ngl, i did entered my idea for the first problem at Sunday evening and for the second problem it was on the afternoon of the next day. Those were basic solutions cause who am I? Am just your basic guy.

Tuesday, 21 Sep (#NeverForget #NeverAgain), class again for plant design (PD). Dean discussed stuffs which im ngl, i did not listen because im bored (not until he said 'we'll have a 5-min break and we'll have a quiz after that' like wtf, how will we do our quiz???!). After the short break, I did study cause i panicked as hell, he presented the prospects of the course, that we will be divided in groups and that the leaders were chosen based on the solutions they turned in the activity previously given. So there's no quiz, i was calm the whole time after that until my name was called. Like wtf??! Your basic guy will be a leader???! Hello!!! So i chat people, asked them if it was a good thing (course it was!!!? So dumb right?!). And then, i asked another leader and she agreed to my argument that we should only be divided into six instead of seven as what dean has decided. So i chatted dean (pic below). I just accepted the role half-heartedly.

As leaders, we should be hiring people for our team and we should make pubs. I dont have a canva account to help me do pubs. I made mine at MS ppt HAHAHAHAHAHA but im good so its cute. We were assigned with projects and i get to have the 4-member team. The vacant roles were project maven and liaison officer for a 3-member team. In my pubs, i included scrummaster as position to be filled, cause who am i to lead?! So yeah, that's it. I did the pubs Wednesday and I submitted my resume Thursday (third to the last hahahaha but my resume's cute hahaha).

Thursday. So i had this invite by a classmate to join the Shell event long time ago. He was reaching out for someone to ask Dean for his approval because Dean did not replied to the email he sent. So, i volunteered. I really want this competition cause this will be my first and maybe last competition as a UP student. So i DMed dean and blah blah blah he asked for selection process. I relayed the message and apologize to them for being me because i was thinking that it was me who made him come up with the decision of having the team be selected. Like, wtf i was just asking for his approval. Getting kicked out of the team was not my intention. Those whom i chatted that night were telling me that it wasn't my fault blah blah blah. So i half-heartedly agreed to them.

Friday came, yesterday, the interview. I am very anxious for someone who will be the one asking the applicants lmao. I already have been interviewed before for college applications and somehow remember the feeling, nerve wracking, whatever. To calm my nerves, i listed questions which i never got to ask properly btw, but at least i have concrete ideas on what to ask. The first interviewee was my very closed friend and so we just laugh and laugh and laugh HAHAHAHAHA. IDK if dean saw it but who cares. And the next and next and next. 3:30 passed by fast and guess what??? YOUR BASIC GUY HAS THE MOST NUMBER OF APPLICANTS TO THE POINT THAT DEAN CUT MY LIST. IT WAS EXHAUSTING BUT VERY FLATTERING. I FEEL SO HONORED. i really thought and very scared at the thought that no one will apply to me but wtf, just wtf. Ranking my applicants was damn hard. 1 i have a dream team but one was cut by dean; 2 this could make my friends mad; 3 this will be the group for the whole year; 4 i am really exhausted. But still, i submitted the list. I was hoping for the people i chose to choose me back. Only two out of three did, i am forever grateful.

Still on Friday, the classmate who invited me to the Shell thing and Dean had a zoom call and discussed about the competition. That classmate told dean what i told him the other day that i might be the reason for the decision of having the selection process done. He told me this through a voice memo, katamad daw magtype. A voice message that i played over and over again. Dean actually find me interesting (?), Invested (?) Idk exactly but the classmate told me na 'may nakikita daw talaga sya sayo. Na grabe ka ka-practical as a person like yung ideas mo daw sa plant design napakasimple lang pero napaka practical to the point daw na madami nag apply sayo kanina. And then, you need more confidence lang daw talaga' so ig, you basic guy is a practical guy now. It's just flattering.

Now, whatever happens, i must meet those expectations right? This could be a lousy motivation but what is if there's none? I dont know why im writing this. I just thought i should get my thoughts out. Ver 2.0? Turning point? Let's just do good 😌

PS I put this on my bio on FB, guess im getting more public, and if you happened to read this because you saw the link on my bio, send me a message about you thoughts.

PPS if your initials are JTZC, these have been my week and i miss you even though you're not interested in me anymore, you are hard to forget

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asthesamcroflies · 4 years

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REQUEST: Shattered

So, I had a request come in via messages, which is fine by the way, I can just post the details of it in order to reply publicly - I have to confess it’s something different for me, but I decided to give it a go to challenge myself. I don’t think I’ve ever written anything with that Son-on-Son vibe before, not for any particular reason, I just tend to have stuck closer to canon. Hopefully it’s not terrible lol - I did end up not going down the smut route, just cause I thought that slightly ambiguous, unspoken feel worked for this. I did kinda get all up in my own feels lol, so fingers crossed you guys like it...

Here’s the request details: Chibs, Tig, Juice (mentioned. Post series.) - Sad, Romantic, Smutty (if you want, it's not required) - 18, 15, 21 Past Chibs/Juice. Prez/VP dynamic. Chibs is shattered, he needs love, he needs peace of mind. Tiggy sees clearly this.

Prompt 18: “Please don’t do this.” 15: “Do you still think about her/him?” 21: “Would a kiss help?”

Shattered

It was late. Or early depending on how you wanted to look at it.

For once though, the Samcro clubhouse lay quiet and deserted. Almost. The new, eager-to-please prospect had tried to stay on to clear up, but had probably been barked at to get the hell out. That was an end to the night that was becoming more and more common – Sons, hangers-on and croweaters slipping away in the face of their stern president’s glare.

His vice president sighed heavily at that, wiping a hand over his face as he leaned in the doorway and took in the slumped shoulders and reaper on the back of the man he’d vowed to support come hell or high water. He could remember a time when the brash Scotsman was the life and rowdy soul of every fucking party.

Heavy is the head that wears the crown, huh?

Tig knew, perhaps better than most, what it was to carry guilt, remorse, self-loathing. He’d been there for the near-apocalyptic series of clusterfucks that had torn right to the heart of their club and all but destroyed it, so he knew the burden Chibs now had to bear in trying to see what could be salvaged from the ashes – all while desperately trying not to ignite any simmering embers that could flare up and burn them all to the ground all over again.

But it never got any easier to see him struggle under that weight.

He was about to speak, to make his presence known, when Chibs downed whatever was left in his glass and slammed it down on the bar, before stumbling to his feet and crossing the room to stand in front of the framed mugshots of members past and present, those honoured and those who now hung upside down, crossed out, disgraced and a warning to those who may come after them not to stray too far from the club’s rules, spoken and unspoken.

Tig knew from his own reaction to that wall, once a source of pride, how deep it cut Chibs to see it now. In both their minds, Jax Teller still deserved better than to be remembered solely as having brought shame on the patch. Their young president had lost his way, had made mistakes – catastrophic mistakes at that – but he had suffered for it enough and, at the last, had owned his part in his own downfall. Those he had left behind couldn’t help but cling to their love for their young president, or else what had it all been for?

But they had to put up a façade to appease Packer and the other club presidents. They knew the enormity of Jax’s crimes and the price that had to be paid. It didn’t mean they had to like it.

But as Chibs’ hand reached out for a different photo, touching it lightly before his fingers curled into a tight fist, Tig knew there was a fate that was even more complicated for the Scot to come to terms with. He had loved Jax like a brother, like a son even. Juice … Juice had been something else.

That fist lashed out, shattering glass that bit into flesh and drew a hiss of pain, even through what was undoubtedly an alcohol-induced fog. But despite lifting the hand to examine the damage, despite seeing the shard of glass still embedded in it, Chibs only slowly clenched that fist again, forcing it deeper as blood seeped from the ragged wound.

Tig was the one who winced.

“Please don’t do this,” he blurted out, unable to witness any more of this without intervening.

Chibs slowly uncurled his fingers, never turning around. “Go home, Tiggy,” he murmured, the words slurred and his accent thicker than ever.

“Yeah, ‘cause I’m gonna leave you in this fucking state,” his VP scoffed, finally galvanised into action and snatching up what he hoped was a clean cloth as he strode across the clubhouse to take charge. “Lemme see this mess. Jesus…”

He had to force himself to be less gentle than he’d have liked, for reasons he didn’t care to fully explore, but he was still careful as he examined the bloody hand Chibs had been left nursing, tutting over the shard of glass before slowly working it out and pressing the cloth to the wound to stem the bleeding. It looked worse than it was, but it was still bad enough.

“You might get away without stitches,” Tig decided. “So you wanna thank your lucky stars, brother, because I can’t sew for shit.”

“Lucky,” Chibs echoed dully, with a bitter little laugh. “Aye, that’s me – real fucking lucky. I need a damn drink…”

“No, you fucking don’t,” Tig insisted, grabbing him by the shoulders to steer him away from the bar and into a seat.

“Just leave me be, Tigger,” the weary president sighed, raking his uninjured hand through the salt and pepper of his hair. “I ain’t exactly good company right now.”

“What’s new?” Tig snarked, but there was nothing but sympathy and concern in those sharp blue eyes as he sat down opposite his closest of brothers. “You can’t go on like this, man. Ain’t right.”

“Got a choice, do I?” Chibs demanded, the raw agony in his voice and in his brown eyes making even his battle-hardened VP flinch. “Want me to throw up a rope and have done wi’ it? Like… Like Juice.”

Tig stood up so fast his chair overturned with a crash and he jabbed a furious finger in his friend’s face. “Don’t you fucking dare,” he seethed. “Don’t you fucking dare! Tell me that’s bullshit. Tell me you wouldn’t. Tell me!”

“Aye, aye, fine,” Chibs reneged, taken aback even through his haze by the strength of the response to his flippant suggestion. “Fuck, I … I ain’t taking that way out. I ain’t, brother. Sit the fuck down.”

Still furious, Tig glared at him the whole time he was righting his chair and banging it back into place, before sitting down opposite him again. “Asshole,” he snapped, his glare only intensifying when Chibs actually managed a little laugh, wiping his hand over his face.

“Ah, Tigger,” he sighed. “Good to know ya care, brother.”

“Course I fucking care, shithead,” came the heated response. “You think I stuck around for the good of my fucking health? I said I’d always have your back and I damn well meant it. So you don’t get to punk out on me like a little bitch.”

“Your TLC could use some work…”

“Fuck you.”

Chibs chuckled humourlessly. “Love you too, Tigger. You gonna at least let me have one wee drink now me hand’s stinging like a motherfucker?”

“You’ve already had the better part of one wee bottle, by the looks of things,” Tig grimaced, before relenting and getting up to retrieve a couple of glasses and the nearly empty bottle of whiskey, pouring them both a drink and downing his swiftly. He figured he had a lot of catching up to do.

Seeing Chibs’ gaze land somewhere over his shoulder, Tig looked around to follow it back to the photos on the wall and specifically to the one that now hung behind shattered glass. And not for the first time.

“Do you still think about him?”

It was a stupid question, Tig knew that. The answer couldn’t be more obvious. But it was actually the only way he could think to even broach the subject of something deeper.

“I let that lad down,” Chibs mumbled, taking another swig of his drink. “I coulda done somethin’, stopped it ever gettin’ that far.”

“He was a rat,” Tig reminded him, although not unkindly. “That’s on him.”

“He was an easy target,” Chibs shook his head. “He tried to come to me wi’ it. I didn’t hear him out. Not properly. We were all he had and I didn’t listen, didn’t see what was goin’ on in front o’ me own bloody nose.”

For a long moment, his VP could only sit in silence, musing on all the mistakes he’d made in his own life. The hurt he’d caused, to himself and his family, to others caught in his crossfire. He knew what it was to bear that burden. He didn’t want that for Chibs.

“What’s done is done,” he said finally. “Can’t change it, any of it. Can only learn from it. But you gotta let go, brother. You gotta let go or this is gonna eat you up from the inside out.”

“Easier said than done,” Chibs said quietly, his forced smile wry. “You know that.”

“I do,” Tig nodded, after a pause. “But I had you. And you’ve got me. So don’t forget that, you prick. You’ve got me. And I fucking need you. I can’t do any of this shit without you.”

Chibs looked up at the crack in his VP’s voice to find Tig was the one with his head down now. Slowly, he reached out to let his fingers trail through those wild dark curls.

“Oi,” he said roughly. “I ain’t goin’ anywhere, you hear me?”

“Didn’t sound like that,” Tig mumbled. “Never does when you start talking like that.”

“Look at me,” Chibs demanded, finally trying to pull himself together at the realisation of what he’d done. “Look at me, Tigger. I ain’t goin’ anywhere. I promise you, my brother.”

“How do I know you ain’t just bullshitting me again?”

“When have I ever lied to you? About anything serious?” Chibs demanded, albeit with a swift amendment to account for the creative ways he had been known to get around his VP when he had to.

“You said you’d stop blaming yourself.”

The hurt beneath the accusatory tone stopped the Scotsman dead and he reached out to rest a hand on his VP’s shoulder. “I am trying, brother.”

“I know,” Tig sighed, covering the hand with his own ringed fingers. “I know.”

Chibs pulled him close. “Would a kiss help?” he murmured, already planting a firm kiss on the other man’s cheek.

“You ain’t getting off that light, asshole.”

Chibs could only laugh at that despite himself, his lips grazing skin again. “Ah, Tigger, last two standing… Never thought it would be us.”

“As long as it ain’t just me,” came the quiet, yet fervent response.

It was a sentiment that both warmed and broke Chibs’ heart.

#soa #sons of anarchy #soa fanfiction #soa prompts #soa requests #chibs telford #tig trager #juice ortiz #jax teller

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reeesea · 4 years

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Something Sweet: Part One

~the sweetest drink on the menu~

one ~ two ~ three ~ four ~ five ~ six ~ seven ~ eight ~ nine

pairing: just minsung, han jisung/lee minho

warnings: mild language (like barely)

words: 3.5k (2k too many ngl)

summary: Minho is working his usual shift at Seoul's most expensive high end restaurant, when a trio of new-comers arrive and by the end of Minho’s tedious night he’s plus one additional phone number.

a/n: To be honest this is the first thing I’ve ever written and actually posted. SO please accept this minsung one-shot that just came out of wanting more waiter Minho in my life. anyway if you read it and like it let me know, and maybe ill write more of it. In my head it has at least a few more chapters of non-plot where the other boys show up <3

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It had only been an hour since the dinner rush started and Minho was already counting the minutes until he could collect his tips and go home. Sure, he could think of countless more exhausting jobs compared to being a waiter at Menu 98 (an upscale restaurant in a part of town he most definitely did not live in), but today just hit different. He never had to do much more than just put on his Customer Server Smile ™, not mess up the orders, pour the wine without spilling, and recommend the highest priced appetizer if asked. Pretty simple stuff. Nothing too draining, but still the exhaustion set in, probably due to spending 2 more hours in the dance studio than he should’ve the previous day.

His feet were paying for those additional long hours trying to perfect choreo by making each minute of his shift more painful than the last. Even so, working at the ever popular restaurant paid for the daily discomfort that Minho may have felt from his blistered feet. The restaurant was a well known hot spot for anyone with enough money to casually spend the equivalent of three of Minho's paychecks on a meal. CEOs and their business partners along with idols and some lesser known celebrities made up most of their usual clientele on a casual Friday night like this one. The customers always came in waves on Friday evenings, parties of usually 4 or more coming in to celebrate some successful business venture that took place during the week. Great for Minho really, because that meant usually more wine, more appetizers, larger meals, and larger checks, which means bigger tips. His bank account really needed these Fridays especially if he was gong to keep saving up to finally pursue his dream.

A new party of six was just assigned to Minho’s section. Trademarked smile: on, Feet: still aching, Hours until close: at least another three. It looked like tonight it was going to be a long ass night.

An hour or so passed before Minho was able to get some form of rest from being out on the floor. Minho leaned his body weight against the wall near the back of the dining room, appreciating the brief calm before the night crowd started to roll in. Thoughts of the dance he was trying to choreograph flashed through his head. He hoped that the movements he’d chosen would be able to convey the emotions of the song he had in mind. The thought of asking Hyunjin to watch his performance briefly popped in his head, but before he could consider it further the hostess was calling his name.

“Minho! There's a new table for you in section three.” Minho moved from his comfortable position against the wall and went through his checklist; Apron? Flattened. Backup pens? Check. Hair gently moved out of his face to perfectly frame it? Check. Lastly, Polite customer service smile? Obviously.

The three boys at the table were definitely new customers to the restaurant. Minho observed that the three of them appeared to be blissfully unaware of the de facto business casual to fully formal dress code that the other patrons in the restaurant followed. The Trio seemed to sport the street style that you would see in the popular clubs not only a block away. Two of them clothed in almost all black outfits while the third wore a bright pink colored hoodie under his jean jacket.

“Hyung, I still can’t believe we did it! The crowd was huge, I mean after going on stage I don't even remember anything. I might have blacked out. Holy shit did I actually black out….” Pink hoodie seemed pretty animated about whatever the reason was for their meal out. Maybe a little too animated, as other tables glazed bitterly toward the source of their evening’s disruption.

Before approaching he considered the possibility that these boys being idols was likely, but Minho still found it odd for multiple reasons. He didn't recognize them at all as idols, which he was usually pretty good at keeping up with, and when idols did casually come in it was more likely to be on a weekday for an early dinner and not a late Friday night after the dinner rush. Nonetheless, with his perfect waiter image on, he walks over to the table never showing his curiosity.

“Good evening gentlemen, My name is Minho, and I’ll be serving you tonight. Is there anything I can get you to drink before your starters?” His script rolled politely off his tongue like it had the whole night. All complete with a slight smile and arms perfectly placed behind him, as carefully and as naturally as a doll whose been posed in the same position for the past six hours.

The wide set, somewhat brooding boy has already decided after glancing at the drink menu, “yeah I'll order a bottle of the house red for the table,” glancing up at Minho from beneath his black cap. Minho swiftly wrote down the order, and moved his glance over to the next boy at the table.

“Hyung, you're the only one of us who chooses to drink wine voluntarily,” Pink hoodie spoke up, seemingly upset about the prospect of drinking bitter fruit water.

“Jisung, you're just saying that because you can't handle anything that you can actually taste the alcohol in. I'll drink whatever Bin gets,” the handsome curly haired blonde mentions, glancing at the soft hoodied boy next to him with a look that reminds Minho of a disappointed father. Minho actively fights off the smirk that is wanting to form on his lips.

“WHAT that's not true, THAT ONE TIME I drank an entire bottle of-”

“Fine, fine just stop yelling. You’re gonna get us kicked out before we even get to eat” Mr. Black cap glances up at Minho again, but with a more apologetic look. “Add on an order of the fruitiest and sweetest drink you serve still with alcohol in it, for the small squirrel boy.” That last part came with a smirk from the dark haired speaker and a glare from from the ‘squirrel boy’ to his left.

Minho had trouble keeping the smirk from forming this time. And maybe his perfect image faltered for a second, but he was quick to recover, and confirmed their orders with a straight face and a promise to return with water as he left to give them time to select from the menu.

---

“Great now our waiter thinks I'm a whiny baby who looks like a squirrel. Wow, thanks Changbin-hyung.” Jisung grumbles and pinches his cheeks that cursed him with the rodent nickname.

“Good, at least he won’t be fooled into thinking you're anything but the truth”

“Yah! WHa-”

“Hey settle down you guys, lets try not to get kicked out please. Binnie recommended the food here, and I would very much like to eat it before we are politely asked to leave”

Jisung grumbles something inaudible at Chan’s request, and Changbin can't help but respond with a smirk at getting to see the younger be told off.

“Also we're supposed to be celebrating selling out our show so lets do that, yeah? First show 3racha single handedly sold out! WE did that!”

All three of them get proud smiles after that, and the bickering is left forgotten as the three recount the night, even though they had lived it together

“Not gonna lie, I think our Binnie stole the show tonight. You were on fire tonight man.” Chan said proudly, receiving a thankful smile from the younger boy, who had become shy and bashful at the praise.

“Though, Chan-hyung your rap was so charismatic tonight, you almost made that girl in front faint when you winked at her, the whole audience fucking lost it” Jisung had switched from literally yelling to just a whisper shout for emphasis.

“Hahaha, yeah I can't even believe that happened. Man, today’s energy was just different.” The smile on Chan’s face was blinding, as usual. “Hopefully we can get to play even bigger venues soon. I could get used to this...” Chan mused, seemingly already focused on the future plans of 3racha.

“Yeah, those paydays would be real nice right about now.”

“Bin-hyung, what are you talking about, you’re literally loaded. Plus since you got that producing job, we can actually pay the rent on the apartment you parents let us stay in '' Jisungs pretty thankful for all the support Changbins parents had given them, while the three of them worked toward their collective dream to make and perform music. But he thinks they all can agree that finally being able to use their own money to live instead of just relying on handouts and the kindness of friends or family to help keep them from becoming starved or homeless, is a new kind of satisfying that Jisung hadn’t considered before. Just look at them now, at one of the nicest (and most expensive) restaurants in Seoul, fighting over drinks and having a meal that would hopefully be the first of many celebrations for their groups accomplishments. The trio could all agree that the financial stress has been one of their greatest worries, and that beginning to escape it has been all kinds of relieving.

Before any of the boys could respond to Jisung’s comment, Minho had returned with three glasses of water, three glasses for wine, and a bottle of wine all balanced perfectly on a tray perched on the palm of his hand. Jisung had to admit it was impressive how he had managed to balance all of the glassware and liquids without losing balance, and while moving with more grace and agility than he would expect from your average waiter.

Before Jisung had even returned from his thoughts, three glasses of water and the expertly poured wine glasses, all set delicately without a single drop spilled, were identically placed in front of each of them. Graceful may have been an understatement.

“Have you decided what you would like to have tonight, gentlemen?” Their waiter Minho said, all with a gentle expression on his face.

No, the answer was no, but before Jisung could respond, Changbin had already ordered the pricey steak to go with his wine. Soon after, Chan ordered the surf and turf dish that had a stupidly complicated name that Jisung couldn’t pronounce. Jisung hadn’t even remembered them even looking at the menu, or maybe it was just him who had yet to even glanced at it. Details.

“Uhhhhh…” Jisung searched hopelessly over the menu and then at his friends, who stared blankly back at him, then back to the menu again. This was a regular occurrence when the three decided to go out and eat, when they weren’t holding themselves in their apartment for weeks at a time. Still, Jisung always ended up hopelessly unprepared to successfully order without awkward pauses and at least three consecutive strings of ‘hmm’s and ‘uhhh’s. And so,

“Hmmmmm…. I think.. Uhh…. maybe…” nothing was popping out at him, and Jisung was pretty sure at this point that he had forgotten how to read. “Ya know what, surprise me,” he decided this was the best response he could come up with.

“Surprise you?” Minho looked just as confused as Jisung felt.

“Yeah, is that an option? If not, I'm this close to just closing my eyes and pointing.” He says while dramatically closing his eyes and waving his finger over the menu. Once again Jisung was hopeless.

He hears a soft chuckle and opens his eyes just in time to catch their waiter’s lips curl in a sweet smile that makes his eyes turn into crescents. It lasts barely a second, before his face returns to his neutral customer service expression. But Jisung decides he really likes that smile, and a part of him is sad to see it retreat so soon.

“Well in that case, I can do the blind pointing for you, but I personally recommend the seasonally prepared local beef served on house baked brioche, that comes with garlic and parsley potato wedges. Does that sound alright?” Jisung felt he had said it faster and with more details just to confuse him.

Jisung stares at him blankly in response, and he's pretty sure four whole seconds pass in silence before the Pretty Waiter ™ follows up, an ever so slight smirk on his lips, “it's pretty much a really good local burger with homemade fries, I think it would be something you would enjoy.”

Jisung grins at that, “Oh! Yeah that does sound good...Thank you! I will have that.” For some reason he really likes the idea that their waiter chose something off the menu that was specially meant for him. Not that he wouldn't like all the nicer and fancier dishes they serve here with small plates with dry ice fog, but a part of him was more content in getting a dinner that didn't require him to question whether or not something on his plate was even edible. And the happy curiosity definitely had nothing to do with the way their waiter’s eyes sparkled when he talked or the barely-there smirk that Jisung just caught sight of.

“Alright then, I’ll put in these orders. Oh! And then I'll be right back with your speciality fruit drink,” He says that last part with a slightly more upbeat tone, resulting in another smirk to appear on Changbin’s face and a groan from a slightly embarrassed Jisung.

---

Minho surprised himself.

On any given day of work at Menu 98, he deathly avoids having to do anything more than the regular polite small talk. But for some reason, tonight he couldn’t stop himself from playing along with the antics of the cute boy at his table. The three boys were entertaining, and maybe he could blame the exhaustion and the numb pain in his heels, but the comical distraction was welcomed by Minho. He didn't even realize just how much he had been looking for a distraction from the long shift until it was staring right at him with big shiny eyes and a cute round face. Minho hurried back to enter in their orders, including his suggestion for the squirrel looking boy.

Minho wasn’t going to deny that the flustered boy at the table was cute, he was pretty aware how attractive all three the boys were when he took their orders. He had thought they were idols originally, so in Minho’s mind it made sense. Still, the waiter still felt something about the three was too unique to be categorized as just idols or trainees. As much as it may have piqued his curiosity though, Minho still got paid for his service not for his interests in customers, so he brushed it off almost as soon as it appeared.

The rest of the evening, Minho tended to all four of his assigned tables with his usual perfect server act and minimal small talk. When it came to the three somewhat boisterous customers in the corner table, Minho may or may not have allowed himself to subtly laugh at their arguments and antics. The dynamic of the three boys was slowly becoming the highlight of his late night shift. Each of their personalities greatly contrasted and amplified the other, making way for animated and comical exchanges and arguments between them.

When Minho had returned with a Strawberry daiquiri for the boy in pink, a chorus of giggles could be heard from the other two boys, while the other happily accepted the drink in substitute for the untouched glass of wine in front of him. Upon drinking it, the cute boy's eyes somehow widened further and shined more than Minho thought was possible. He flashed his heart-shaped smile as he thanked Minho for the drink.

Minho nodded in return, and internally decided that Heart-shaped smiles were his new favorite.

---

Jisung had been hyper since the show, and the energy was now focused on a new mission to see the pretty smile of their waiter again. Granted, he didn't have to try that much harder to gain the attention of the pretty waiter, being the loud and excitable person naturally he was. Every small grin that Jisung was able to pull out from under the other boy’s infuriatingly polite facade, was a major win in his book.

Chan, Changbin, and Jisung celebrated further by enjoying the food, which was all phenomenal, and discussing their next gig the coming week. The best way to celebrate one performance is to look towards the next, or someother random bullshit Changbin had said after a couple more glasses of wine.

Overall the night was a celebration of all of the dedication and hours they had put into their music, as well as their grind to perform and grow a somewhat sizable following. They were all high on the potential of finally getting to realize their dreams and reach their goals as a group, something none of them actually thought they would get to do together. The overwhelming happiness of the night easily made it one of Jisung's new favorite memories.

As the boys were finishing off their third--or forth--drink (Jisung definitely had another one of the strawberry drinks Minho had brought him), after dinner and figuring out their checks, Jisung felt a surge of boldness. Mostly due to having a few drinks in his system, and the slight infatuation he had with the pretty waiter's smile, Jisung decided ‘whats the worst thing that could happen? Rejection? lmao’ and wrote down his name and number on his receipt in hopes that Minho would actually read it, or maybe even contact him. Maybe.

It was a shot in the dark, but Jisung had been feeling a little high on life, and felt like he couldn’t leave without at least shooting his shot. Jisung and the other members of 3racha got up to leave, and Jisung searched out the waiter. He wasn’t able to see him in the mostly empty dining room now, but a hopeful part of him felt that he would see him again, leaving the restaurant with his arms around his members already bickering about who would get to shower first after their long night.

“I'm just saying, Chan-hyung I know for a fact that you’re not even going to make it to the front door before passing out, so I call dibs. And Jisung, I’m older than you so I get veto power over your rights and decisions as your hyung.”

Jisung was about to grumble in response but something about how Changbin’s smile was so carefree left him feeling like he deserved this victory. Changbin was definitely a little tipsy, but seeing his hyung so happy after such a rough week made Jisung glad to do anything to keep that smile there.

“Fine, fine hyung but you have to help me carry Chan-hyung up stairs when he inevitable falls asleep on me in the cab”

“I don't know what youre talking about,” Chan replies, already yawning, while climbing into the cab.

---

Minho was picking up the receipts from his tables when one of them caught his eye.

Hey, I’m Han Jisung ^~^ (the cute one in the pink hoodie!)

Thanks for your suggestions, best waiter ever!!!

I think your smile is beautiful, Maybe I’ll get to see it again sometime?

555-XXX-XXXX

Minho couldn't help but smile to himself. He’d been hit on occasionally by customers and has been given countless numbers, which usually don't make it much farther than the trash, but something about the innocence of the note and cuteness of the boy made him actually consider keeping it.

He scoffed to himself after a second of considering it. As cute as the boy was, and as sweet as the note was, Minho didn’t have time or energy to have another added person in his life. No matter romantically or platonically, new relationships were on his ‘things to stay away from if you ever wanna make it into the dance academy’ list. He already barely ever saw his roommates, and if they weren't all in the same dance troupe, they probably wouldn't talk much. All of their time was spent working and practicing, and he and his roommates only had enough energy and free time to spend a meal or two together on the weekends. There just wasn’t any more time for anything extra, no matter how nice the idea may sound.

He was about to give the little message the same treatment as the others as he cleaned up for the night, but a part of him couldn't bring himself to throw it away, and discreetly pocketed it instead out of instinct. Out of sight and out of mind as far as Minho was concerned.

-----

thank you if you read this far <3

one ~ two ~ three ~ four ~ five ~ six ~ seven ~ eight ~ nine

#stray kids #skz #minsung #stray kids fic #skz fic #han jisung #lee minho #lee know #I love my sons #gods menu #restaurant au

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glitterytidalwavedragon · 3 years

Text

Putting it Out There (A Biracial Child)

I’ve always wanted to address this, I just never knew where or how to. But, as I write, I see the influences come into play more and more (More so when I am writing my B.B fanfic and the Tourist), so I thought, now is a good time as any and this is the only account and platform I feel safe (maybe because I don’t have 200+ friends or followers here who know me outside of social media). I also feel as if this prospective of life isn’t given much attention or heard.

I, as some may know cause I had commented as such, am a biracial child. My father is a Caribbean Hispanic male and my mother of German and Italian descent.

This does not mean I have the best of both worlds. In fact, most of the times I feel alienated.

Born in the early 90′s, the song “Livin’ La Vida Loca” by Ricky Martin was every where. My mother would tell me that song was about me, now I was 5-6ish. I thought she referred to me liking cats, and trying to go out to perform a crap version of ‘Singing in the Rain’ along with the love for magic.

No, it wasn’t so innocent. It was straight up because of my skin tone. I looked like the girl the song was describing. I had no idea. Nor did I realize a silent war was raging in my family.

Growing up was...hard to say the least. It is even harder when you have racism on both sides pointing fingers at each other. On my mother’s side, my aunt and uncle wouldn’t allow me to visit unless it was a holiday to which there was pressure from the family. Out of spite, they would invite my much older siblings father over to cause a fight (The man did not celebrate christmas). Meanwhile my other aunt would tell me over and over again I was Italian. In the end, during these events I would end up alone and not know why.

Now lets turn to the other side of the family, my father’s. My first words had been Spanish. Yet, I lived with English speaking relatives... guess who stopped speaking Spanish for a long while. When visiting my family on his side, none of of my relatives would address me, only if they had to because my father was not around. These people knew how to speak English, very well even though they had moved from their native island. They just refused to speak to me. This sucked cause where it was 3 people on my mother’s side, it was 16 aunt’s and uncles on my fathers not counting the dozens of cousins I had. So, as the other family events, I ended up alone not knowing why.

The answer was rather simple but much to complicated for my child self. Both sides of my family was and still is completely racist. My white mother was near exiled for being with a man many would consider black (he considers himself Spanish and oddly doesn’t get the fascination on why his skin matters or makes me worry about him when he is stopped by cops...). I was the ‘mixed’ baby, a simple of her family’s shame.

My father’s side could not care what color my mother was, only that she was not Spanish. For those who don’t know, Spanish can be an array of color, its cool. But, she was no Spanish, did not speak Spanish and therefore my father was exiled by everyone but his own mother for many years (which is why we ended up in family events, my mama wanted to see her youngest grandchild by her baby boy). This meant being put at the back table, being openly mocked, and never told of big family events like babies or weddings.

This only lead to more fighting at home and in the end even my own siblings, alienated me. It was a pretty lonely experience.

This carried on to school and friendships. Elementary was not fun, but I felt the effects more in Jr. and High school. In elementary I was grouped with the other Spanish kids, because starting in late summer I had my Spanish tan on and therefore, I was not white to other white kids. But I did not speak Spanish. At one point I spoke gibberish to just to be able to hang with the Spanish kids at recess. It worked and I still don’t know how.

In Jr. ahhhh... at one point my family was making good money, which originally, it once took the income of five adults to keep us afloat, now it just took 2. My father and my grandpa (who I will talk about later). We moved to a ‘nicer’ neighborhood. In the early 2000′s that mean, a white neighborhood. Boy, did I stick out.

Now you might think “But you grew up in NYC, said you were from Brooklyn” well, here is a fun fact. Nothing is more segregated than NYC schools. The north did not do busing like the south did, so white schools stayed mostly white while schools in low income areas stayed mostly black or other minority races. I was a very tan child going into a white neighbor hood to a white school. Lets top it off that I played video games and Yu-Gi-Oh, HA!

I received hell. I had legit parents sneer at me, and girls asking me if I had sex because I was Spanish. A 12 year old, got hit on by 15 year olds because they thought my race made me easy. I was 12, all I wanted was to collect cards and play Pokemon on my stupid advance, I had no time for boys unless they were anime. But... someone (more than likely their parents) had set these ideas in their head on how Spanish people, more so girls, acted.

Then I realized, I really liked all things Gothic. A Spanish Goth.... it pains me to think about it. Everything from poser, to faker, and ‘trying to act white’ was laid on me. I could not wait for Jr. High to end. And when it did, a whole 180 happen.

I was no longer Spanish. I did not know why, just everyone referred to me as ‘the ONLY white girl’ in the school and that is not a joke. My school, was dubbed the worse in all of Brooklyn and shut down, which I believe it was dubbed that because of the 1% white population... I was the 1 after my second year when the other white kid (who was a boy people asked was my boyfriend) graduated. Now, in high school it wasn’t the kids who gave me hell. It was the teachers.

In fact, high school led me to meet others who were also feeling alienated. One of which I am very close to, a black man who is Jewish (adopted by a white couple) and gay. He did not where he belonged either. In the mid-00′s to be a black gay man living near the ghetto was dangerous. I can’t count how many times he had to hide who he was so he wouldn’t get shot. Nor could I count how many times my other friend coped with being a biracial black man who loved anime and being goth so much he was bullied for it when we weren’t together (who I ended up dating throughout high school).

Suddenly being labelled white get me an acceptance I was not expecting. I ended up being popular against my best efforts and people who I did not know knew me. At 15 I did not get what had changed, because no one had told me yet. No, I figured it out at 16, when I was placed in senior English because of my grades. My English teacher told me, I was white, in the worse why I could ever imagine.

My English teacher, a beautiful black woman who celebrated her African roots, gave an assignment one day. I was one out of five in a class of thirty who did it, because I did it in her class the day before. I played sports, so did half the other kids, I did not have time after school. This did not sit well with her, she was mad, which was an understatement. So, she turned to the class and said

“This is why our people end up in Jail or having babies to early. Because like black people don’t take education seriously.” Then called be out by name and continued “is why she will end up being successful, because white people know the importance of an education.”

First off, she was very racist towards EVERYONE, second I at 16, who was always called Spanish in school was now labelled white in front of everyone by an adult. I was both confused and terrified as my boyfriend who knew my family cared JACK SHIT about education looked ready to kill her. Luckily, he just walked out of class and waited for me as I was too studded to move.

I later asked him if he thought I was white, he admitted he did until he saw my father and called me biracial. For the first time in 16 years, I had been called biracial. Went home, did not tell anyone what happened, asked my mother if I was biracial and she said yes. To shorten this up, this was what life felt like,

At home, I had no race. Neither side welcomed me.

In school, I was told I was Spanish and had to fake my way in the Spanish group.

Jr High, I am now trying to distance myself from everyone as being Spanish makes me a target.

High School, I thought being Spanish would be a good thing. Now everyone is telling me I am white.

I had not idea who or what I was.

All I ever wanted was to be me. I wanted to understand why my family never got close to me, and I wanted friends who were friends because I was me.

It was like I was being ripped to pieces. I could be what others wanted or be no one at all. I had no idea what to do. If people at the new school found out I was Spanish, would I become a target again? I was allowed to freely play games, watch anime, and be my gothic self if I were white. But that also meant I could not hang out with my friends who lived in the Ghetto, shouldn’t like rap, R&B, and reggaetón or use the slang I grew up always using.

To be a Spanish person trying to be white

A white person trying to be black/another minority of color.

I had watched as the former got my friend (boyfriend at the time) kicked out of classrooms as he was compared to those involved in columbine shooting from teachers since he was different. Also the hell he received from other boys for cosplaying and playing anime based card games. At one point it was so rough he thought about dropping out and I begged him to stay along with his mother. I was so afraid of going through that again.

So I kept my mouth shut.

I took on the military standard of ‘Don’t Ask, Don’t Tell”. My father never came to the school because he worked so much so no one knew. Everyday, I just took what my English teacher said to be without any force back. When Obama was voted in, she told me I had no right to celebrate, that my people had JFK and that Obama was for all the minorities to celebrate. I fell into a dark hole of hating myself. My home life was awful and now school I had to pretend to be something I wasn’t comfortable with. I started ditching classes, got into more fights than I would care to admit, did some really shady stuff and began hurting myself.

The only joy I got was when I busted my ass grades wise and got out of school six months early. I did not have to go to school anymore and I could lock myself away to be no one but myself. It was lonely but I found company in books and my art. Through art I was allowed to be me and no one could take that away.

When I returned for Graduation I June, did I get the final laugh on that English bitch. My mother and father showed up, she asked if my father was a cab driver helping my mother as she had gone blind. I told her, rather happily, that was my father. She went from joy to sheer disgusts faster than you can blink. For years she kept talking about who ‘mix babies’ never got any where as their fathers were never around. Yet, despite me hardly showing up, I gradated top of my class, never had a baby nor was I ‘loose’ (In fact I feared sex as a teenager), and my mixed couple parents as she lovingly called it, were together.

She walked away from me and never said a word since.

But now school was over, college was starting. I still hadn’t figured out who I was. Was I white/Italian or Spanish. In college I learnt no one was going to tell me who I was anymore, nor did they care. At home, it was still a battle of the races. Finally, one of my cousins spoke up and declared I wasn’t Spanish as I knew nothing of the language. At home, my aunt and uncle decided I was Spanish and called me a ‘Spick’ as a joke. I did not take it as one and therefore I was called ‘uptight’.

My siblings also informed me, if I wanted free college to put down Spanish on everything unless it was the census. Then I should be white. Sometimes I still run into people who think I am one over the other. I had people come up to be speaking Spanish to be highly offended when I tell them I don’t speak the Language well. (I tried learning but it is hard when motivation is not there).

In recent years, I had someone at work tell me how they met a Spanish person, shockingly where my father works, and then described in detail my father and then tell me they thought he was illegal since he looked the type. All because they thought I was white... proud to say that person got fired for being racist.I did also inform them that was my father to their response was “you’re one of them”.

It never ends.

No, the reason why I haven’t been driven insane is because of my late grandpa. My grandpa was a man I adopted to be my grandfather. My biological grandfathers on both sides died long before I was born and the man I adopted was close to the family and acted like a father to my parents. He was a good man and the reason I had a childhood.

He once went through the same, Italian/Jewish, you wouldn’t think there would be a problem but when he was growing up that equaled Catholic/Jewish, to which he too was either pinned in the middle or rejected by both sides, this is the 1930′s-1940s. He gave me the best piece of advance ever.

To be myself.

That if I were myself, then it did not matter. The moment I stopped being who I am, that passing or faking would never tell me who my real friends were. That if he, could love me for who I was, a weird girl who liked boy things and drawing strange looking characters, then anyone else could. Being a stranger to myself would never bring happiness. So, after years of not listening to that, I finally decided to listen to my Grandpa.

I know who I am, I know the history of my families. They might not like that I am not what they want me to be, but they don’t have to live with me. I have to live with who I am. My friends are my friends because they know who I am, not who they think I should be.

So for all my biracial brothers, sisters and them’s, be yourself. Don’t try to force yourself into a mold, it isn’t worth it. None of it is worth it.

Look yourself in the mirror and say your name. Say it loud and let everyone know they can not define who you are, and so what if they say you don’t belong, guess what? You do if you want. You belong because YOU say so, because that blood runs in your veins as well as theirs. So you get to make that choice!

Make that choice of being you! Define yourself to YOUR standards.

Don’t let anyone take that away. I know I won’t.

So here I see myself! A strange fox who changes coats with the seasons, that loves anime and video games, who plays Yu-Gi-Oh and listens to opera and Metal while can twerk and get low to Daddy Yankee! Who eats sushi and makes a mean chicken cutlet but can also make the best empanda with beans and rice with the rest of them!

And no one can take that from me.

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queenbirbs · 4 years

Text

the way home | Ch. 1 | Edward x MC

Pairing: Edward Mortemer x MC

Word count: 2,048

Summary: In which traveling to the past is only half the battle; or: Elena finds her way back.

Warnings: language

Notes: This series is complete. I’ll be posting chapters on here and over on AO3. Title taken from Tony Anderson’s The Way Home. Continue on to chapter two.

Inspired by @choicesmonthlychallenge day 16 prompt “tick tock / time.”

------

“You heard what my colleague said.” Robert’s voice sounds from the backseat, pulling her from her study of the countryside. “If this doesn’t work, then we may get stuck somewhere else with no--”

“Fuck that,” Elena cuts him off. “It’s going to work.”

He rolls his eyes at her in the rearview mirror, but says nothing more. They’ve spent enough time together over the last two years that he’s learned when to stop bothering with trying to change her mind.

“Damn straight it better work,” her sister Gabby says around a mouthful of sour gummy worms. “I didn’t put two-thousand miles on my car for you all to get skunked.”

Robert makes a face at the unusual term. “Are you forgetting that if we get caught then you’re an accessory before the fact?” he points out.

“Yeah, but that won’t really affect my trade-in value, now, will it?”

Up ahead along the highway, a yellow sign reads: Welcome to New Mexico; Land of Enchantment. With Colorado in the rearview now, Elena pushes out a breath, trying to calm her racing heart as the pockmarked landscape passes in a blur.

She’s tired of having her fate sealed, printed onto expensive cardstock, and ogled by museum-goers. What a life she led! How tragic, though, about Captain Mortemer spending all that time searching for her! the people at the museum tut and shake their heads before moving on to the next room. Elena’s tired of coming back home, of staring at that portrait of him and wondering if it’s the last she would ever see of him.

During their four trips to the past, she’d managed to find Edward only twice. Though she was glad to be leaving it behind, there was something to be said about the ease of communication in the twenty-first century. After their last return, Elena and Robert didn’t bother with the faulty compass or time anomalies. Every deadend, every long night of research, and every weekend trip to scope out a lead was for the assurance that this would be their final voyage to the past. There would be no more time-hopping, no more disappearing for months at a time. With each stone they overturned, there was hope that it would bring them here. Here, she bemuses, to the long stretch of empty highway between southern Colorado and northern New Mexico.

The trip to South Dakota had been a last-ditch effort. Robert’s old colleague from Oxford let him know about a warehouse hidden away in the Badlands, rumored to house hundreds of artifacts -- including the one they were after. Convincing Gabby to be their getaway driver was the hardest part; putting on a show of being a damsel in distress with a broken-down car and incapacitating the guards was much easier, in Elena’s opinion.

Under her touch, the artifact in her hand glows the same eerie shade of blue as the compass. The whistle is a tarnished gold, engraved with the initials of a sailor who escaped H.M.S. Fletcher after its sinking off Cape Horn in 1890. News articles about the event were vague. The sailor’s diary, however, detailed his two days trapped in an air pocket, blowing his whistle desperately for help, and suddenly appearing on the shore eight years in the past. The only corroboration was the event log of a fisherman who watched the man “step out of thin air.” By all accounts, the tale was nothing more than a fantastical story.

They reach Urraca Mesa with plenty of light left -- surprising, given that they were forced to hike around the scout ranch that owns the property. The mesa glows crimson in the afternoon sun, towering above them as they make their way up the trail. Elena’s duffel bag smacks against her thigh with every step. Along the next rise, Robert stops and consults his map with a scowl.

“The lodestone minerals makes navigating this place a pain in the arse,” he grumbles as his compass refuses to cooperate. The needle jerks back and forth, never settling on a clear direction.

“Does it have to be exactly on the ley line?” Elena asks, fidgeting with her bag’s strap to move it to a less sweat-drenched part of her back.

“Of course it does. That’s why we drove all the way down here in the first place. The electromagnetic energy is at its peak along--”

“Okay, okay!” Gabby interrupts. “How about we try something else: do you have the exact coordinates?”

“Yes, but a compass doesn’t work like that.”

“Yeah, but a phone does,” she snaps back, tugging her phone from her backpack. “Lemme have ‘em.”

“We’re too far out of range for cell service.”

“Maybe, but it’s worth a shot.”

Robert sighs, then flips his map over for the coordinates scribbled on the back. Gabby’s fingers fly across her screen. Within a minute, the automated voice is telling them to continue south for 256 feet.

“Verizon,” she offers at his look of surprise.

You have arrived at your destination! the phone announces as they come to a copse of trees underneath the mesa’s shadow. Elena isn’t sure she really believes in all of Robert’s theories about magnetic fields, but there’s something different here. An odd sensation tingles down her spine and through her fingers, as if she’s touching a live wire. The smell of ozone is heavy, as if a tremendous rain fell moments ago, though the desert is bone-dry.

“Well?” Robert motions to the whistle in her hand.

She lifts the whistle to her lips and blows. Its shrill cry pierces the air, the mesa’s steep walls echoing the noise. At first, nothing. Then, as if ripping a seam through the fabric of reality, a portal cleaves the open air before them. That blinding blue-and-white color shimmers before them.

“Holy fuck.” Gabby grabs her arm and squeezes. “You-- you weren’t making this shit up.”

At that, Robert turns and lifts an eyebrow at her, a smirk stretching across his face.

“You think we’d make you drive two-thousand miles for a practical joke?”

“I mean, we used to play them on each other growing up,” she says. “But this would be one hell of a trick.”

“No trick,” Elena tells her, turning her attention away from the portal and back to her sister. “But it does mean…” she trails off, her throat too tight to finish the sentence.

With tears welling in her eyes, Gabby throws her arms around her and hauls her in for a tight hug. The portal sparkles against Elena’s closed eyes; tears drip steadily down her face.

“You’re really sweaty,” Gabby complains against her hair, prompting a laugh from her sister. “I hope you didn’t forget to bring anything, because there’s no CVS on the other side.”

“I’ll be okay. I have everything I need. And there’s always the local market.”

“Yeah, I’m sure they’re stock-full of tampons and condoms.”

Robert clears his throat, gesturing to the portal when both sisters glance over at him.

“I’m sorry, but we really need to go, sooner rather than later. I’m not sure how long the portal will stay open. If it closes, we may not get another chance.”

Elena nods, crushing her sister against her one last time before letting go.

“I know you’ll have a badass sword or whatever, but make sure you use those moves I taught you,” Gabby tells her. “I didn’t close up shop at the gym for a whole day just for you to rely on weapons only.”

“Okay,” Elena nods. “I will.”

“And try to get a message to me. I’ll keep an eye out for any new pirate documents and artifacts. There’s a subreddit I follow that keeps me up-to-date.”

“Okay, I will.”

“And tell that little boy of yours, whenever he comes along, that he has a really cool aunt.”

“Okay,” Elena promises, her voice breaking around the words, “I will.”

Nodding at Robert, she walks with him to the portal’s edge. This close, she can smell the salty wind and feel the humidity of the Caribbean. Glancing back at her sister, she gives her a watery smile.

“Love you,” they say in tandem, prompting the other to chuckle.

After a final wave, Elena turns and links her arm through Robert’s.

“Ready?”

“Ready.”

Together, they step into the portal, and the world closes up behind them. For the briefest moment, she glimpses that swirling mass of colors that surrounded the Intrepid during the chase with the Admiral. Then: white sand; a blazing, blue sky; palm trees swaying along the curve of a coastline. The salty wind that she caught the scent of earlier rushes past, a cool balm against her sweaty skin. Across the blue stretch in front of them, ships cruise toward the shore, their sails trimmed for an easy docking. Through the trees to the west, a bustling town sits above a busy port.

“Where are we?” Elena asks, squinting at the buildings to see if she can recognize where they’ve landed.

“Santo Domingo -- though you’d know it as the Dominican Republic,” Robert explains. “That white flag with the odd-looking red ex is a symbol of the Spanish empire. The ships out there are flying the same colors.”

“Okay. Now, more importantly, when are we?” she asks.

“The Spanish ruled this half of Hispaniola between 1697 and 1795.”

“Oh, yeah, you know,” she scoffs, “just a hundred-year span of time.”

“Quiet, I’m not finished. Do you notice something off about the buildings? Extensive damage like that isn’t caused by a tropical storm. That would be hurricane-force winds.” As he lectures, he swings the bag on his shoulder round and starts to dig through it. “In 1754, Santo Domingo was hit with what would’ve been a category three hurricane. Twelve ships were lost.”

“That history degree of yours is coming in clutch,” she says, grinning when he scowls at the slang term.

“Our only real way of knowing, of course, is to go into town and find out.”

Pulling a tube from his bag, Robert bends to set it down in front of the portal. She forgot it was there at all, too excited at the prospect of returning home. “I’d advise you to retreat,” he tells her as he backs away, a pistol in his other hand.

Elena heeds his warning and follows him several paces away. She claps her hands over her ears just as Robert pulls the trigger. The gunpowder explodes into a ball of fire, eating away at the portal until it collapses in on itself, blinking from existence.

“So.” Her words sound muffled to her, still ringing from the blast. “That’s why you didn’t want to fly to South Dakota.”

“Not really. I just hate flying.”

“Convenient that you picked a century when airplanes haven’t been invented yet.”

Robert grins at her and shrugs, though the jovial expression drops from his face as he gestures to the whistle, still clutched in her hand.

“For the next item on the agenda, you need to get rid of that.”

“What? No!” Elena takes a step back and holds it against her chest.

“Elena--”

“Not until I find Edward. If we went too far in time, then this was all for nothing.”

He settles his hands on his hips and shakes his head at her.

“If you hold onto that, you’ll be drawing unwanted attention to yourself. There are those that can… sense power in objects. You’d be wise to toss that thing into the sea.”

“Later,” she snaps, then hesitates, trying to reign in the irritation at his lack of understanding. “Look, I know that for you, your goal is complete: you’re back. But mine isn’t.”

Robert grimaces, glancing away and towards the ocean beyond. Finally, the set of his shoulders loosens and his breath escapes him in a sigh. He digs through the bag at his side for a moment, before pulling out a long, gold chain.

“Here.” He takes the whistle from her and loops it through the chain. “So you don’t lose it in the meantime.”

Elena settles the necklace across her chest; the whistle disappears into the top of her shirt, hidden from view.

“Thanks.”

“Now,” Robert gestures towards the town, “let’s bury these bags and go see about this pirate of yours.”

------

References:

The warehouse full of artifacts in the Badlands is a reference to Warehouse 13, a show about a warehouse full of artifacts in the Badlands.

#edward x mc #edward mortemer #distant shores #distant shores fic #august choices challenge #Kaila writes things #f: the way home

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sherrybaby14 · 5 years

Text

Casual Sex

This is for Fvckingavenger’s writing challenge. Thanks for hosting!

Prompt: I’m never gonna fall, but I’m never hard to catch // My heart will never break, I’m just here to break a sweat // We’re wild under the covers, crazy for each other (Casual Sex - My Darkest Days).

Summary: You have some casual sex with Captain America.

Pairing: Steve x reader

Warnings: Smut

A/N: I had never heard this song when I picked the prompt…I gave it a listen and the music video is very odd!

The TV switched from captivating to boring without you even noticing. You were glued to your phone, unsure what you were watching at this point. What a boring Thursday night. You had to get up in the morning, but there was still time for something fun.

You debated on calling a friend, maybe heading to a bar to try and find some random ass. But that sounded like a lot of work. As you looked out the window of your apartment you noticed it was raining. Definitely not leaving now, but that didn’t mean you couldn’t order in.

As you flopped back down on your couch you went back to your phone, opening the hook-up app.

“Let’s see…men…within one mile…currently online.” You set the filters and watched the tiny dots dance.

You rolled your eyes as you were hit with over 1000 results. New York was such a crazy place. You slid the distance meter down until you got to .4 miles, knocking your prospects down to a much more manageable fifty.

“Nope.” The first picture didn’t do anything for you. “Un-un.” You swiped the second away.

All of these guys looked the same. You wanted something different. Exotic even. Something you’d never tasted before.

A super-hot guy appeared on your screen. Tall, dark and handsome. You licked your lips about to message him when his icon went black: USER NO LONGER ONLINE.

“Fuck man!” You sat up frustrated. “You were a second away from maybe getting some. Unless you got swiped up by some other user.”

The next icon appeared and you smiled at the familiar image. Steve Rogers. Captain America. You liked a guy with a sense of humor. And what could be more exotic than meeting a complete stranger? You tapped the icon to direct message.

YOU: Hey stranger, what’s your name?

The little bubbles showed up. He was responding right away.

STEVE: Steve.

You crunched your nose as the response.

YOU: Very funny. Why don’t I just call you Captain? Would you like that? I can dig out some fourth of July panties for you?

You giggled, watching the typing bubble appear and disappear. He was flustered.

YOU: A newby on this site? I’ll help you out. First, don’t use a fake picture. Nobody will respond to it. Second, don’t be so shy. Everyone on here is looking for a quick lay. There’s no need to hold back.

STEVE: You can tell? First night. I guess I still have things to learn.

YOU: Well I am a great teacher. Do you want to come over? Once we’re done I can help you set up your account better. Keep the Captain America pic for now. I enjoy a good surprise.

STEVE: Alright.

You tapped the icon that sent your GPS and address to the mystery man. He accepted and the screen turned into a map. He was at the coffee shop around the block. You had five minutes to freshen up.

Your apartment was clean enough and you were going to be undressing anyway, so the lounge pants were fine, but you went to your underwear drawer and started to rifle through it, unsure if you had any red white and blue undies.

A knock sounded through your apartment. Shit! That guy was fast. You left your bedroom and went for the door where the knocking continued.

“Just a sec.” You pulled open the door, what you saw made your mouth fall open.

You weren’t sure what you were seeing and had to pinch your thigh. He was more beautiful in person, his thick hair and trimmed beard, let alone the sparkling blue eyes.

“Hi. Do I have the right apartment?” He looked a little nervous. “I’m looking for Y/N. The girl on the app whose photo looks just like you?”

You realized you were staring and shook your head out, moving so he could walk into your apartment.

“So Teach, you do this sort of thing a lot?” Steve brushed some raindrops off of his jacket.

“Yes. I mean, holy shit! That was your picture?” Your initial instinct was to profess your love for the man and thank him for all his service to the world, but that would work against your now new goal: casual sex with Steve Rogers.

“What if I was a serial killer?” Steve looked around. “Or tried to rob you, it’s not very smart to let strangers into your home.”

“Then I would be dead or you would be a disappointed thief.” You shut the door. Ordering yourself to treat him the same way you would treat any other random from the hookup app. “It’s worth the risk for some good sex.”

“Why casual sex?” Steve cupped his hands in front of him. “Why not a relationship?”

“Don’t do relationships. I’m busy. I’m happy. But every few months I need to get laid.” Your eyes took him in. “What about you? Why casual sex?”

“Thought I would try something different.” He didn’t seem as confident in person. At least not about this.

You licked your lips as you walked up to him, so you were only inches from his face.

“Am I…different enough for you?” You reached out and cupped his cheek.

He followed your cues and dipped his head, pressing his mouth to yours. Inside you were screaming! You were making out with Captain America. In your living room. But externally you played it cool.

He wasn’t a bad kisser but moved a little slow. You tried to coax his tongue into more action, teasing yours into his mouth. You brought your hands around his neck, but noticed he kept his in front of him.

“Mmmm.” You pulled away from the kiss. “You have to relax. You’re not going to break my heart. You’re going to break a sweat.”

He smiled as you grabbed his hand and led him into the bedroom. This time he put his hands on your waist when he resumed kissing you. There was a dominance to his lips now. One that you welcomed as you started to tug on the hem of his shirt.

Steve broke the kiss and tugged off his top. Your eyes glossed over at the picture of perfection in front of you.

“I don’t mind admiration.” His hands went to his belt as he kicked off his shoes. “And yes, I’d like it if you called me Captain.”

It felt like someone cranked the thermostat, your clothing more than unnecessary. You pushed and pulled it off as fast as you could. Then found yourself in your underwear with Captain America.

“No Fourth of July?” Steve kissed your neck. “I’m disappointed.”

“You came too quick Captain.” You brought your arms around him and nipped his ear.

“I wouldn’t worry about that Teach.” He scooped you up, hands under your ass and tossed you on the bed, falling down on top of you. “I have super stamina.”

“Let’s find out.” You ran your hand across his chest, turning it around when you got to his boxers.

When you went under the waistband you gasped at the size of him. Tonight was going to be amazing. He was sucking on your neck, when you moved both hands to his boxers and pushed them down, raising your foot so it caught them and pulling them down the rest of his legs by straightening your leg.

“Nifty trick.” Steve raised his head.

“Nifty?” You giggled. “I’m full of them.”

“I bet you are.” Steve rolled over, pulling you with him.

His hands went to the sides of your panties and he gave one tug. The fabric ripped without hesitation.

“Hey, I liked those.” You wiggled your hips as Steve tossed the ruined panties aside. ��But, I have to say nifty trick.”

His hand came behind your head and pulled it down for a kiss. When your lips met you crawled upward, repositioning yourself to take him. There was no chance you were going to miss the opportunity to ride Captain America.

With your hand on his head, you ran it over your slit. You were horny before he got here, but having the chance to live one of your fantasies was too much and now you were soaked.

That was a good thing though because when you held him at your entrance and started to lower yourself you needed the lube.

The kiss broke as you sank lower, your pussy stretching around him to an almost painful level.

“This is so hot.” Steve’s hands were on your hips, but his eyes were watching your body take his. “The hottest thing I’ve ever seen.”

His reaction increased your desires. You parted your legs further, taking him all the way in, back arched forward.

“Lick your hand.” You sat up all the way. “I want you to rub my clit while I ride you.”

Steve’s blue eyes looked like they were about to shoot out of his head, but he put two fingers in his mouth and then wasted no time putting them on your clit.

You started to roll your hips first, waiting until he got a good pattern going on your pleasure center.

“A little harder. Set the pace.” You looked at him. “I’ll go as fast as you’re going.”

“I’ve never been instructed like this.” He tilted his head. “I may have lied about that stamina thing. This is so hot.”

“I told you.” You smiled since this was how you almost always had sex. “I’m a good teacher. Now rub.”

Steve put more pressure down and started moving in a circular pattern.

“Good.” You licked your lips. “Real good.”

You began to rise and lower your body, sliding up and down his shaft, trying your hardest to keep pace with his hand. He increased and you bit back a moan, loving how he was bringing your clit to life and how stuffed you were with his cock.

“Move to this motion.” You raised your hand made the come hither motion. “Do that while rubbing.”

“Yes.” He did just what you instructed.

“That’s a good student.” You were taking him with ease, his cock and fingers both bringing you immense pleasure. “Captain. If you keep that up I’m going to cum real soon.”

Steve let-out almost an inhuman noise as he started moving his fingers faster, flexing his cock inside of you while you bounced up and down.

A long moan left your mouth as the orgasm shattered over you.

“Are you on birth control?” Steve’s voice was shaky.

“Uh-huh.” You had an IUD from the last relationship you never bothered to take out.

You realized this was the first time you’d had sex without a condom since then and that ended years ago. He grabbed your hips and pushed your body down hard.

You cried out and fell forward at the loos of his fingers, your orgasm still fresh in your limps. His cock twitched inside of you as he followed you into orgasmic bliss.

“We should have used protection.” You curled up on his chest. “Don’t do that with anyone else on here. You don’t want to get a disease.”

“I can’t.” Steve looked at you.

“Can’t?” That seemed like a rude remark. “Allergic to latex?”

“I am immune to diseases.” Steve looked at you.

You shook your head. Of course, he was. You pushed yourself up from the bed and looked at your ruined panties.

“Where are you going?” Steve turned on his elbow.

“Bathroom.” You winked. “Do you have another one in you this evening or do you have to hit the road?”

“What do you mean?” Steve had a quizzical look on his face.

“I mean, casual sex. Do you want to do round two or leave now?” You stopped in the doorway. “I have to get to sleep around ten, but you can stay until then?”

“Oh right. Casual sex.” Steve gave a pressed smile. “Ten works.”

“I’ll be right back.” You winked and headed for the bathroom.

Once you were out of sight you did a little happy dance. A night of sex with Captain America. How in the world were you this lucky?

Break a sweat had been the right choice of words. Your breath heaved in your chest. Both of you reeling from the latest finish, but you weren’t sure if yours was a new one or just a long continuous one. You turned to look at Steve when your eyes caught the clock.

“Shit. It’s almost midnight.” Even though everything felt like jelly you popped up in bed. “You’ve gotta get out of here.”

You went to grab his clothes off the floor.

“Or I could just stay the night.” He wiped the sweat from his forehead. “You can kick me out in the morning.”

“Ha, nice try.” You handed him his clothing. “That’s too relationship-esque for me.”

“Right.” He started to get dressed. “You didn’t teach me how to use that app though.”

“It’s not hard.” You laughed. “I think you’re doing fine. I mean, you found me. That picture is going to confuse some people.”

“Honestly, you’re not the first one I tried to meet up with.” He stood up from the bed. “The rest, um either thought I was lying and swore at me, or when I did meet up with them stared at me awkwardly until I left.”

“Not going to lie, I had about five seconds of that.” You wrapped a towel around yourself, hating how tired you were going to be tomorrow, but needing a shower. “Good luck with that. No advice there.”

“Well, what I am trying to say is. Would you want to do this again sometime?” Steve was pulling on his shoes. “Maybe I could get your phone number?”

“That’s sweet.” You smiled. “But no. I mean sure, we can do this again sometime if we’re both on the HookUp App at the same time and you’re close enough to me. I set it my radius. But A friends-with-benefit relationship gets messy. What if you call me and I’m not in the mood? Then I feel guilty and like I have to since you’ve been there for me when I was feeling horny?”

“Oh.” There was no hiding the disappointment in his voice.

“But I did enjoy tonight.” You smiled. “Really. Thank you. Maybe lightning will strike and I’ll find you again?”

He almost looked like a bruised puppy. It was tempting to give him your number, but you weren’t looking for anything. You had been honest.

“Have a good night.” Steve nodded and you watched him leave, locking the door behind him.

Once you were sure he was out of earshot you did a happy dance. Banging Steve Rogers. Tonight was one for the books.

#Steve rogers #steve rogers x reader #steve x reader #marvel #marvel fanfic #fanfic #fanfiction #captain america #captain america fanfic

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theliterateape · 3 years

Text

The Donation

by Wayne Lerner

The email arrived unannounced. A cold call. An over-the-transom letter. He had no idea what was going to hit him.

No ding, swoosh or chord announced its arrival. Nope. The academic elitist researcher, now University President, linked his email arrivals to Beethoven’s Fifth Symphony.

“Dr. Carton,” it read. “My name is Peter Howard. I am an alumnus of your University with two graduate degrees from the School of Allied Health. And I have done pretty well for myself. Your director of development, Mrs. Gardner knows this. She calls me just about every other week to see if I want to increase the $250,000 contribution I made last year.

I am ready to talk about another contribution but this one much larger. Many universities have been the recipients of large alumni endowments which have been linked to naming rights. What would it cost me to name the School?”

“By the way, if you think this is a scam or I’m not serious, talk to Mrs. Gardner or read the links I have attached below. In particular, the article from Forbes should take away any concerns you might have. Thank you for your consideration. I look forward to a timely response.”

Dr. Carton had no idea who Peter Howard was. Since taking office five years ago, he had established an MO that was known throughout the University community: manage the Board meetings and suck up to the seven figure donors.

Carton called Debbie Gardner and told her about the email he received. “Should I respond? Is this guy for real? He could have made up that Forbes story, you know.”

“Stop!” Gardner exclaimed. “Don’t do anything until we talk. I’m on the way over to your office now. Dr. Howard is one of the wealthiest donors on our prospect list. I’ve been trying to meet with him for months. Now that he’s interested in us, we can’t afford to blow it! But, you have to be careful with Dr. Howard. He’s outspoken and has a somewhat erratic persona. I can help you manage him.”

26.2 hours later, Peter’s phone dinged with an email from President Carton.

“Mr. Howard, thank you so much for your remarkable letter. Yes, we would be very interested in talking with you about naming rights for the School. I would love to set up a time to discuss this person-to-person, either over the phone or by Zoom. And, finally, yes, Mrs. Gardner has diligently done her job by staying in touch with you, one of our most esteemed alumni.”

Peter smirked as he read the email.

I knew I would get a quick response, but what a douche. Even with an MD and a PhD, he uses adverbs in his letter. What’s the matter with him? Where did he learn how to write? Medical school?

Three days later the call took place.

“Dr. Carton, thank you so much for arranging this meeting. As I said in my note, I’m a dedicated alum, committed to the school, my graduate program and profession. It’s because of them that I have had the chance to become so successful. Now I want to give back to the University.”

“That’s so generous of you, Mr. Howard. Excuse me, I should say Dr. Howard. We are excited to discuss how the donation could be constructed to meet both your and our needs.”

“Great,'' Peter replied, “but I have a few conditions. One is more important than the others.”

“Oh,” Carton said. “And what may I ask are the conditions?”

“The main one is I want the Dean of the School of Allied Health gone.” Silence. More silence.

Peter looked to see if the call had been disconnected. It hadn’t been. Just silence.

It felt like minutes to Peter but it was only a few seconds when Dr. Carton finally cleared his throat and responded.

“I don’t think we’ve ever had a request quite like that, sir. Can I ask why you feel this condition is necessary to make the donation?”

“Sure.” Peter replied. “That asshole dissed me, he disrespected me, several times when I was sitting on the alumni advisory board. He treated me like I was some putz from the southside of Chicago who didn’t know nothing and had no background or expertise.”

Peter didn’t know it but, at that moment, Dr. Carton put the call on mute and whispered to his assembled staff.

“What’s a putz?”

“Shhh,” they responded in unison.”We will tell you later. Just play along and don’t upset him. He’s very close to giving us the funds for the School!”

Carton unmuted his phone as Peter Howard continued with his conditions.

“Furthermore, the Provost put this guy into the Dean position over the objections of the search committee, someone who had never had senior academic administrative experience. He is a fucking researcher just like the Provost. They both should be gone. What do either of them know about leading people or even understanding the roles and functions of the departments within the school? I’ll leave the Provost to you. I have my sights set on the Dean. He’s paid no attention to the departments whose alumni have given the most money to the School. All he cares about are the esteemed research departments with the largest NIH grants.”

“Sir, you do not need to talk to me like that,” Carton interjected. “I’m sure there is another way to get your point of view across. But I get your message.”

“Oh, I’m sorry, Doctor,” Peter replied in an obvious sarcastic tone.

“It’s my upbringing. It comes out when I get excited and I’m excited now. I’ll just calm down and try to remember that I am talking to the President of the University.”

“Just so we are clear on the offer, President Carton. I’m willing to meet your asking price to name the School. In fact, I’ll give you substantially more for scholarships for needy students, but the Dean is gone. He’s history! And he’s gone before the donation is announced. I don’t care if you retain him as an assistant professor in his department or a janitor in the building. That schmuck is outa here!”

Carton muted his phone again.

“Schmuck?” Carton mouthed to his staff.

“Later!” they replied in unison again.

Silence. More silence.

Then President Carton replied.

“We really could use your donation to accelerate the programs within the School and, especially, for your graduate program. And we certainly could use the extra money to help us recruit needy students to our campus.”

The President took a breath and continued.

“I am going to have to talk with my executive team in more depth about your conditions.We must give them the complete consideration they deserve. They are a bit unusual, you see. However, you can be sure we will take the request seriously. I’ll get back to you promptly.”

“Thank you, Dr. Carton,” Peter said. “I’ll look forward to your response. Several weeks later, the email from Dr. Carton arrived.

“Dr. Howard,” it read. “We have given your request and donation requirements careful thought. We will agree with your conditions. Please call me so we can make the final arrangements.”

A big cheshire cat smile formed on Peter’s face.

Shit! Great! Money talks. Cash is always king. And that’s how the big university can bow to the wishes of a southside Chicago guy. The Dean is history.

The call was set up for the following week. The parties talked through the conditions and reviewed the press releases. Special attention was paid to the timeline for making the donation and removing the Dean from his position.

“This is all fine with me, Mr. President,” Peter said. “I’ll have the first installment of the money transferred to the development office account as soon as we get off the call.”

“Thank you, sir,” Dr. Carton replied. “No one likes to be held hostage, but the size of your donation and the good it will do for the University, faculty and students is just too overwhelming.”

and now the President’s voice got very quiet,

“Besides, there is some validity to your concerns but I would appreciate it if you would never repeat that to anybody, ever.”

“You can be sure of that, sir.” Peter said. “This will be between just you and me”… And the tape recorder I’ve got going.

Peter continued.

“Mr. President, not to be rude, please remember that the timeline and deadlines must be hit for the donations to be made. There’s to be no slack in the timeline or the deadlines. If missed, the deal's off.”

“I understand that, Dr. Howard. You’ve made your point quite clear. And again I want to thank you for supporting the University. I hope we get the chance to meet

face-to-face as soon as the pandemic is under control. Maybe you could join me at an upcoming football game as my guest in the President's box? Have a good day and be safe.”

“Thanks. You, too.” Peter said as he hung up the phone and smiled once more to himself.

Silence. More silence.

Peter felt something cold and wet on his nose. He tried to ignore it but it wouldn’t go away.

“Honey? Honey? Peter! You’ve got to get up for your 7 AM Zoom meeting with your boss. You piss him off one more time and you're out of a job, again! And walk your damn dog first!”

“Ohhhhh, fuck me.”

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diveronarpg · 4 years

Photo

Congratulations, COURT! You’ve been accepted for the role of EDMUND. Admin Rosey: The minute we heard Easton’s voice, we couldn’t get enough of it. There was a certain cadence to it, a bite, a cleverness and a dry wit that we fell head over heels for. It’s very difficult to capture that kind of freshness and Court, you managed to do that completely effortlessly. And the plots that you have in mind for him? Make it all the more enticing because we simply don’t know which way he might go! Regardless, though, we know that he will step on each and every one of our hearts. Be merciful with us, won’t you? Please read over the checklist and send in your blog within 24 hours.

WELCOME TO THE MOB.

OUT OF CHARACTER

Alias | Court

Age | 27

Preferred Pronouns | She/Her

Activity Level | I would say that I will be around a 5-6/10 on average. My schedule does fluctuate because of my job, but right now I am in summer and will not be working much, so I have a lot more free time. In the fall, that will change, but is something I can handle when we get there! I am definitely an eager RPer, though, and am quick to respond/write. :)

Timezone | EST

How did you find the rp? | Just searching around on Tumblr!

Current/Past RP Accounts | I have RP’d before, but it was a while ago (like, 7 or so years ago), so I don’t currently have access to any of my old accounts, unfortunately. :(

IN CHARACTER

Character | Edmund, a.k.a Easton Craven

What drew you to this character? | So, I’m most drawn to Easton because, actually, I am a high school literature teacher! King Lear is one of my all time favorite plays (I read it every year), and I’ve always been intrigued by Edmund’s character. I am really excited at the prospect of exploring the inner complexities that come with Edmund’s OG plotline/psyche. I feel like Edmund is a “side” character that could be his own show, and pretty much immediately knew that I would love to play a portrayal of him! (Plus, it doesn’t hurt that he’s on the most wanted list!)

What is a future plot idea you have in mind for the character? | I’m not sure if you want these to be connected; I’m just going to give three ideas of where I could see Easton’s character going in the future, if that works:

Power Play: I would love to see Easton get the power that he so desperately craves. I think that would end up being devastating (in the best way) because then he would be required to face the wall that he has put up in response to the rejection of his family. I see Easton making connections and climbing up the ladder, but then getting to the top and realizing that revenge isn’t what he needed in order to feel valid. (Or it is, and he continues to be a great villain!!)

Traitor: I can also see Easton going a “double agent” route. It’s clear that Easton will do anything to gain power and get revenge for the way he has been treated; because of his affinity for collecting secrets, I think Easton would make a great rogue agent that continually attempts to grab at power and, eventually attempt to crumble everything.

Idyllic Soldier: Given the right character/person, I think Easton could end up truly 180-ing from his plan of revenge. His actions and attitude are all based on rejection; if the right relationship came onto his path, I think that Edmund could straighten out for a particular cause that is not his own. That could manifest as becoming fully loyal to the Capulets and feeling satisfied by their structure and protection, or could have him leaving them in order to follow someone who shows him the support and reverence he clearly craves. Either way, I think that Easton is not truly self-serving, but shows signs of being a great and loyal follower if given the right emotional outlet.

Are you comfortable with killing off your character? | Yeah, I would be down for killing off Easton!

In-Character Interview:

What is your favorite place in Verona?

He glanced up from the coffee he was stirring and flashed a cheeky smirk. “The Dark Lady,” he replied, maintaining direct eye contact as he brought the steaming beverage to his lips. His admission was true, though not for the reasons anyone would expect. He knew that most people thought of him as nothing – someone who’s favorite place was The Dark Lady just because of the gambling and booze. He felt the warm liquid pour down his throat as he watched the interviewer’s eyes widen from recognition. “What can I say? This face is popular amongst women, and I am always happy to oblige.” He licked the coffee off of his lips and dared a quick wink toward the interviewer. Better that she think of him as a pig than know the truth. The Dark Lady is where secrets are kept, and he now knew how powerful secrets could be.

What does your typical day look like?

Before he could stop himself, Easton let out a dark chuckle. “Well, let’s see,” he mused aloud. “Honestly? I’m a bitch boy.” He took particular interest in the non-existent dirt under his fingernails as he considered how to proceed with his answer. “I spend most of my time doing what others command me to do. Sure, I get to boss some low-lives around. But at the end of the day, shit always rolls downhill. That’s what happens when you allow others to control you, to have power over you.” He looked up at the interviewer to see her furiously taking notes, and mentally reminded himself to keep it together. He could not show her his true intentions.

What has been your biggest mistake thus far?

“Devotion,” he responded immediately, his lip curling in disgust. He would not speak of this to anyone, but he knew what the question had surfaced. His devotion to his “family” had been his greatest weakness, and that mistake would not be made again. He knew better, now, than to think anyone would help him but himself. Because of his father’s betrayal, he would become one of the most powerful men in Verona. He would see the whole world burn before ever admitting defeat to his blood. He was coming for them, his perfect brother Everett, too. He would make them sorry for ever double crossing him. “But don’t you worry, sweetheart,” he added, his tone dripping in faux sweetness, “I don’t make the same mistake twice”.

What has been the most difficult task asked of you?

“This interview,” he mumbled, staring into his swirling coffee. He looked up at the interviewer and let out a sigh. “Nothing is that difficult, if you’re capable.” He thought about the people in his command. He thought, even, about those that gave him direction. A sense of anger bubbled up at his position; he should be commanding everyone. It was disgraceful that he was so low ranking that he dealt with imbeciles most of the time. Soon, they would all be answering to him. “Upon reflection, the most difficult task I have faced is dealing with morons who don’t know what’s good for them.”

What are your thoughts on the war between the Capulets and the Montagues?

Easton rolled his eyes. “Semantics,” he responded with a wave of his hand. “Of course, in a war, it pays to know where to place your bets.” He needed to be careful, because he had loyalties he had to maintain. If he made the wrong comment and it got back to the right people, his plan would be squashed before the fun truly started. “As for me, I have respect for anyone who stands their ground. May the best family win,” he added, raising his coffee cup in salute. In the end, the only winner remaining would be himself.

#accepted #accepted: edmund

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