#with a goat or two :) surely nothing could go wrong
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and all at once, you’re all i want (i’ll never let you go) - jack hughes
pairing: jack hughes x original female character
warnings: literally nothing. fluff! some minor worship of nina hischier (the goat), a little love letter to my alma mater
title: "king of my heart" by taylor swift
word count: 10.3k
author's note: first fic in the new year is for @wyattjohnston 's winter fic exchange 2k24!! i had the absolute pleasure of writing for @wildrangers <3 taylor, i hope you enjoy this as much as i enjoyed putting it together and demi, thank you for your endless hard work for putting this on!!
four times where jack hughes and ashley grassie showed up for each other and one time where everyone showed up for them
*****
one - two months
“Jack, are you sure about this?” Ashley asks, fiddling with the silver rings on her fingers.
“Why wouldn’t I be?” He responds confidently, sparing a look at her from the drivers seat before turning his eyes back on the road. “Everyone’s expecting you.”
“You told them?”
“That my girlfriend was coming with me to a New Year’s party? Of course.” He squeezes her thigh lightly. “They’re excited to meet you. And not while we’re working.”
“I’m excited to meet them too.”
“You sure?” He teases lightly. “You’ve been quiet all afternoon.”
“Yeah, yeah. Sorry.”
“Nothing to be sorry about.” They stop at a red light, and he leans over to kiss her cheek. “Ash, baby, they’re gonna love you.”
“But you don’t know that,” she protests softly.
“I do, actually. Because everyone loves you.”
She rolls her eyes. “You can’t promise me that everyone’s gonna even like me.”
He shrugs. “I’ll prove you wrong. You’ll see.” He tugs at her gold sweater. “Is this new?”
“Yeah. Seems fitting for the occasion. Sparkles equals New Years, right?”
“I like it a lot.”
“I know what you’re doing,” she deadpans.
He smirks. “And what might that be?”
“Distracting me.”
“Maybe so. You’re so smart, Miss Columbia Grad.”
“Jack,” she whines, making him laugh.
He picks up her hand and kisses the back of it. “Trust me, okay? It’ll be great. And I’ll be with you all night.”
Ashley swallows, before forcing herself to nod.
The thing is, after two months of dating officially (she’s not counting the month beforehand when there wasn’t a label on things even though there should’ve been), there are still important parts of each other’s lives they have yet to experience together. She’s gone to a few of his games, but has never met any of his teammates (except for Luke, but he doesn’t count), choosing to meet Jack back at his place after instead of waiting for him at the rink. She also doesn’t count that one Devils game she had to fill in for, which is how she met Jack in the first place. The few times he’s invited her along when he does go out with them, she’s been busy with other things.
New Year’s is kinda a big time to be meeting new people. People that mean a lot to Jack. But that could just also be all in Ashley’s head. She’s never really done this before. The last serious boyfriend she had was in high school where everyone knew each other. There was no need for introductions.
Jack squeezes her hand. “Thank you.”
“For?”
“Coming with me to this. Taking off work early. I appreciate it a lot.”
She shrugs casually. “It’s about time, right?” She pointedly ignores the look he shoots her, because she doesn’t want him to know how nervous she really is.
Before they know it, Jack’s pulled into the driveway of the Toffolis and her hands start sweating again. She gathers the flowers on her lap and the wine bag as Jack rounds the car and opens the door for her. He grabs the bag, presses a kiss atop her head and hand in hand, they walk to the front door. She lets Jack take the lead as he just walks in. They walk into the kitchen area, as Cat pulls her into a hug and thanks them graciously for the flowers and wine.
It turns out that Ashley really does have nothing to worry about. Getting thrown into a whirlwind of introductions and new names is a lot, but she doesn’t mind. A wave of comfort crashes over her as Luke practically hauls her into a hug.
She finds herself besides Nico after he hands her a glass of wine. “You’re a journalist, right?” He asks.
“I am.”
“Do you ever watch Jack’s media interviews?”
Ashley giggles. “I do once in awhile. Trust me, I have my thoughts. I also met him for the first time from that. And you, technically.”
“Right, right. Will we ever see you in the locker room again?”
“Probably not. I was just filling in for Danny. On the rare chance I do sports, it’s usually for the Jets. Besides, better to watch and support you all without any stake professionally.”
“What do you usually report on?” Nico asks with genuine curiosity.
She perks up, like anytime she gets to talk about her job. As she talks, using her hands animatedly despite one of them holding a drink, Jack looks on from a distance with a lovesick look in his eyes.
“She is way too cool for you,” Dawson says, fixing his cap.
Jack rolls his eyes. “Shut up.” But Jack knows his teammate’s right.
Jack’s not clingy, perse, but it’s hard for him to watch Ashley just…be and not be touching a part of her. Even if it’s just sliding up against her so her body is pressed alongside his, he just wants to be near her all the time.
(Quinn once sent some random thing he found on Instagram about love languages a few years back and Jack had remembered absolutely roasting him. But maybe he had a point)
“So,” Nicole starts, refilling both their glasses up with champagne a bit later in the evening. “Why Jack?”
Ashley snorts. “Your guess is as good as mine.” From beside his girlfriend, Jesper barks out a laugh and from next to Ashley, Jack pouts. Ashley laughs, leaning into Jack’s side. “I’m kidding. Mostly. I was hesitant at first though.”
“Oh, yeah. He told me about this,” Jesper says. “Said he chased you down the hall after post-game media and asked you out?”
“Sounds about right.”
“And you said yes to that?” Jesper asks. Jack whacks his teammate in the stomach.
“Not right away,” Ashley admits. “He gave me his number and told me to text him if I was interested. And I ended up being interested.”
“Lucky for him,” Nicole chuckles.
Jack squeezes Ashley’s waist fondly. “Lucky for me.”
She listens on in interest as Nicole talks about how she and Jesper got together. Somewhere throughout the conversation, she can’t help but let her mind drift. They’ve been together for years now, been living together for a bit and are looking to move into a house. She literally moved away from Sweden full-time for him.
Ashley swallows as Jack asks about how their house search is going. There’s a very little chance that Jack will be leaving Jersey anytime within the next half decade. But her mother warned her that his career could take him places in the future unexpectedly.
And in a way, so could Ashley’s. But it’s not as easy.
She scolds herself for even thinking this far. They’ve been dating for literally two months. That’s nothing in the grand scheme of things. They’re celebrating entering the new year today, but she has no idea if they’ll even be together for all of it.
She’s hoping they are. God, she really fucking hopes so. But she could hope until the end of the world and have it fall short. She smoothes her sweater out with her suddenly-clammy hands, chugging the whole glass of champagne before putting the flute down on a nearby table. She excuses herself politely to use the bathroom, which she does, before getting some air.
She definitely looks a bit crazy outside on the Toffoli’s porch in the dead of winter, but she doesn’t mind the biting edge of cold. It’s grounding her, actually.
“Was looking for you.”
Ashley doesn’t even look at Jack, humming as she hears him walking out to stand next to her. “Did my sparkle sweater give me away?”
“No, Neeks did, actually. Said he saw you walking out.” She finally looks at him with his eyebrows furrowed. “You’re not cold?”
“Don’t even think about offering me your jacket,” she warns. “I know you’re only wearing a t-shirt underneath.”
“Then come back inside so we both don’t die.”
“In a minute,” she promises.
He huffs, rubbing his hands up and down her arms to try and generate some heat. “Everything good?”
“Yeah, yeah.” Just, you know, minorly freaking out at her boyfriend’s teammate’s place about the fact that she might be falling in love with him even though it hasn’t been that long and what a future could look like for them and how that future could fall apart in an instant.
So regular New Year’s Eve thoughts.
“Unlike you, I don’t have a college degree, much less two,” Jack grins. “I can’t read minds.”
“And you think I can?” She jokes back weakly. He just chuckles. She continues. “Your friends are nice. I like them a lot.”
He lights up anytime someone he loves gets brought up in conversation. “Yeah, they’re cool. They like you too.”
“That’s good,” she says softly.
He taps her forehead with his pointer finger. “Countdown’s soon. Come back inside?��� He laces their fingers together.
“You gonna kiss me at midnight?”
“Think so.”
“You only think so?”
Jack smirks, kissing her deeply. “Shut up.”
Ashley is absolutely floored.
two - one year and one month
Cam’s wedding crept up on her.
Of course, Ashley knew it was coming, but still. Though she was surprised when Jack told her that he was free of games on that particular early November weekend somehow, only having to miss an optional practice and that he would notify the coaching staff far in advance.
It’s not the act of bringing Jack that she’s nervous about. Cam and Amanda, his fiance, came into the city a few months ago and they all grabbed lunch before heading to a game at The Rock that night. She’ll never forget how ultimately “traitor-like to the Bruins” Cam felt, Ashley and Amanda finding it hilarious. They both had a good time though, and that’s all that matters, and Cam, who has always looked out for her even before she had ever asked, subtly gave his approval.
(“I’ll admit my assumptions about him were wrong,” Cam had said. “He’s awesome, and he really cares about you. If he’s the one, I won’t be mad about it. He’s very lucky.”)
It’s more of a particular person that’s going to be at the wedding.
Weirdly, when she and Alex broke up way back when, one of the thoughts that circled her mind months after was exactly this. If and when the day of Cam’s wedding came, and they were both still close to him, they’d both be there. And here they are.
She’s over him — obviously, considering she’s in a happy, long-term relationship and it’s been four years — but how do you prepare to see your ex-boyfriend when the last time you saw him you had just broken up and you were in tears?
She and Jack drive up to Cape Cod early the day of the wedding and she feels a bit bad that he’s driving after he had a game last night and has one in just two days but he doesn’t mind, happy to be driving as long as she’s in the passenger seat next to him. They’re switching off anyways, and she had driven the first half. Cam and Amanda rented out a bunch of rooms at a few inns for their guests so her and Jack will get ready there before heading to the venue.
From a quick rundown Cam gave her a month ago when they caught up over the phone, she’ll at least be familiar with a good amount of people at the wedding. She’s excited to see them all again and catch up, those memories that were bittersweet at some point, all water under the bridge so many years later.
It’s what you get for dating within a friend group. Ultimately, at some point, sides are chosen.
At the end of the day, it’s Cam, someone who has always been there for her since they were 16, even when she didn’t necessarily do the same. He’s given his friendship selflessly to her for over a decade. The least she can do is come to his wedding to celebrate.
And she has Jack with her. Nothing can go wrong with Jack by her side.
“You okay?” Jack’s voice breaks her out of her thoughts as he squeezes her thigh, sneaking a look before focusing back on the road. “You’re quiet. You’re rarely quiet in the car.”
“It’s a 5 hour drive, Jack.”
“I’ve been playing country nonstop for the last half an hour and you haven’t chirped me once.” She starts playing with his fingers and his eyebrows furrow. “Alright. What’s going on, baby? What are you thinking about?”
“You know what I’m thinking about.” She shoots back with no malice.
He sighs, linking their hands together and bringing them up to his lips to kiss her knuckles. “Yeah. I got you though. I’ll be with you the whole day.”
“It’s dumb, really. Four years. And I haven’t thought about him in a long time.”
He shrugs. “He was your first heartbreak, and you haven’t seen him since. This is gonna be some sort of closure, even if it’s four years later.”
“You seem awfully cool about this, considering, you know, your current girlfriend is lowkey freaking out about seeing her ex again.”
“I’m not worried,” he replies easily. “You need this closure. I wasn’t smart like you back then and actually saw my exes probably way sooner than I should’ve. Besides, I’m the one on your arm now. Not him. I’m not pressed.”
She scoffs at yet another country song playing and skips it, snorting when ‘Suburban Legends’ by Taylor Swift comes on. How fitting. “I’m definitely hyping it up in my head. It’s nothing. And Cam told me that he purposefully put us at separate tables, in case Alex says some questionable shit while drunk.”
“No worries about you saying anything questionable?”
“Compared to Alex? No way.” He snorts, amused. But he knows enough about his girlfriend’s ex-boyfriend to not push it. “I wonder if he’s bringing someone. God, I hope he is.”
“Why? Don’t want to rub it in his face that you’re happy and in love?”
“That’s mean,” she says airily. “No. I hope he’s bringing someone because I want to know what kind of girl can tolerate his ass. I did, but I was 20 and stupid. I wanna see what kind of girl can tolerate him at 26.”
“Does he know I’m coming?”
“Cam?”
He snorts. “No. Alex.”
“Who knows? Even if he does, he probably doesn’t care and isn’t overthinking it like I am.”
“I think you’d be surprised,” she looks at him, confused and he bites his lip. “Even if they play it off, guys are affected by that stuff more than you’d think.”
“What is there to be affected by?”
“You,” Jack says simply. “Not that I’m biased or anything, but you leave quite an impact on everyone you meet. And that lucky ass got to date you. As someone who also has had that privilege, I can relate a bit.”
Ashley chuckles before squeezing his hand. “Thanks for coming with me. I know your schedule is really busy with the season and everything-”
“You don’t need to thank me. Isn’t half of having a significant other just bringing them as plus ones to weddings?”
“Fair.” She leans her head on his shoulder momentarily as he pushes the sunglasses on top of his head to his face. “Thank you, though. I feel bad that you’re missing practice.”
He snorts. “Don’t.”
“They didn’t give you a hard time?”
“Not really. It’s an optional, anyways. Nico just told us to have fun and I think Lindy has a soft spot for you somehow. I’m excited. I like Cam. And I’m happy to be here with you.” He smirks, adding. “Come on, baby. Did you think I was gonna leave you to dry when your ex is gonna be there?”
“You don’t know anybody at the wedding. And Cam grew up in a hockey-loving family from Boston. There’s bound to be people who recognize you.”
“So I’m the arm candy for the night. That works perfectly for me.”
They arrive at the inn just past 1, and decide to stop by a nearby cafe to grab a quick bite. Jack decides to take a short nap before they have to start getting ready and head out while she scrolls on her phone and plays with his hair since his head is on her lap. Occasionally she finds herself staring outside the window at the water with a smile. Even if not in the summer, the Cape is beautiful.
Once it hits 4:15, she figures that she should start getting ready, but she can’t move without disturbing Jack since he’s still sleeping soundly on her lap. She gently whispers his name and presses a few kisses on his forehead as his breathing changes, groaning a bit as he stretches and opens his eyes.
“Time to go?”
“In like, an hour. I need to start getting ready.”
He hums, puckering his lips and she takes the hint, kissing him soundly twice before ushering him off her lap. She lays out the few makeup products she has, moisturizing her face before putting light foundation and concealer on. As always, she focuses more attention on her eyeshadow, deciding to add a bit of gold glitter to compliment her pink dress. She clips a matching pink bow in, liking the way it blends with the natural brown of her hair. She decides to save the lipstick for right before they leave and turns to Jack, who’s buttoning his shirt.
“What do you think?” He looks up as he’s buttoning his cuffs. “Too much glitter?” She asks.
“Never too much glitter. You look beautiful.”
She looks at his blazer and tie that he’s laid out on the bed, looking at him with minor confusion. “Since when do you own that tie?”
“Since last week when I bought it.”
She looks at where her dress is hanging. “It matches my dress.”
“Yes it does.”
She looks towards him as he tucks his shirt in, a sudden wave of love rushing through her heart. “I love you.”
He looks up and immediately walks over to her, placing a hand on her waist and kissing her. “I love you too.”
She puts on her dress quickly, smiling when she doesn’t even have to ask Jack as he comes over to help her zip it up, pressing a chaste kiss on her shoulder. His phone ringing interrupts and she brushes her hair before she puts on her accessories.
“Sup Quinny?”
Quinn’s voice crackles through Jack’s phone. “Where the fuck are you going all dressed up on a Saturday? I know for a fact you don’t have a game today, considering Luke just sent a snap of him playing Chel with Dawson 10 minutes ago.”
“I’m in the Cape, asshole. One of Ash’s friends is getting married.”
She peeks into the view of the camera and waves after putting in one earring. “Hi Quinn!”
“Oh! Hey Ash. You look beautiful.”
She beams. “Thank you!”
Jack scoffs. “I’m here too.”
Ashley leaves the brothers to catch up as she starts gathering her things and puts on her lip tint before sitting at the edge of the bed since they still have 15 minutes left before they have to head out and she’s mostly all ready to go. She chimes in once in awhile, always happy to talk to Quinn as Jack shrugs on his suit jacket, ties his matching pink tie and clasps on his watch.
“Looking good, you two.” Quinn says as they both stand in front of the phone. “Matching tie, eh? Good move, Jacky.”
“We look good enough to make an ex jealous?”
She just rolls her eyes as Quinn’s eyes lights up, immediately catching on. “Absolutely.”
“Don’t encourage him, Quinn.”
Quinn just laughs and bids them farewell as Jack smooths down his tie. She puts on her jacket and grabs her boots and slips them on. As she’s about to bend down and tie them, Jack ushers her to sit on the bed and kneels down. He does it too quickly for her to dwell too much on how much she loves him, but he probably knows, if him gently rubbing his thumb over her ankle and the kiss on the inside of her knee tell her anything.
It’s only been a little over a year, but she really does think she could spend the rest of her life with him.
They end up running into Nick in the lobby and even though it’s been…four years since she’s seen him, she corrals him into a tight hug. She introduces Jack and Nick introduces Melanie, his fiancee. The only indication from Nick that he knows who Jack is is a subtle comment that’s delivered in a way that’s so Nick it makes her heart ache — “Jack Hughes. Only Ash would show up after almost five years in the flesh with a professional athlete at a wedding where her ex is gonna be at. Always gotta do some out of pocket shit.” — and makes Jack laugh as she slaps him.
The four of them walk the short seven minute walk to the venue together, with Ashley and Nick mostly leading the conversation. She can’t remember where they left their tentative friendship in their late teens and early twenties when the world was shut down and the future looked the most uncertain it had been. Even though they don’t immediately pick up where they left off, years of rust littered in their interactions and memories, she’s extremely happy to see that he’s doing well.
(Jack’s just happy to be there, holding his girlfriend’s hand as she leads the conversation. It’s nice not having to lead for once. There’s not many situations where he’s the one tagging along)
As they enter the ceremony space, Ashley immediately sees plenty of other people she recognizes. She chuckles to herself as she realizes many of the guys are from the soccer team. It’s touching to know they still keep in touch. Logan, one of said guys, greets Nick goodheartedly, before wrangling her into a hug. As pleasantries are exchanged and people are introduced, she does feel a bit out of place. But that’s natural, reconnecting with people after so long that clearly still hang out with each other and only hear about her through sporadic updates through Cam when they ask.
Sides were chosen, even if not intentionally. Ashley’s learned to be okay with that. Even if she thinks it’s unfair that Alex got to keep a lot of their mutual friends and she didn’t.
As everyone settles down in their seats, she squeezes Jack’s hand, opening her mouth to apologize for…something. Not preparing him in giving the whole lore of how she knows all these people? How the only reason she knows the sport of soccer is so well is because of Alex? Not explaining clearly the mixed feelings of her coming to the Cape this weekend?
But Jack’s enraptured in a conversation with Logan, and she smiles. Of course. Logan played hockey back in high school as well.
(Out of instinct, Jack does squeeze her hand back though, even placing them in his lap even though he’s not looking in her direction at all)
When Alex comes into view, a pretty redhead’s hand around the crook of his elbow, Ashley starts sweating. Thank goodness she has deodorant in her bag. Jack, who’s still talking to Logan, notices, and she’s about to apologize for her clammy hands as he sends her a confused look but the nearby exclamations of Alex’s name answers his question. He just presses two kisses to her temple.
Logan, to his credit, grimaces. “You gonna be good, Ash?”
She waves his kindness away. “Of course. It’s been so long. And it’s Cam’s day.”
And it is Cam’s day, as everyone falls silent watching both sets of parents and the groomsmen and bridesmaids walk down — she chuckles when she sees Sean walking down, forgetting that he and Cam got closer in college even after going to the same high school — before grinning as Amanda walks down in her beautiful A-line, ball gown of a wedding dress. Ashley wipes a tear away watching Cam do the same and she thinks if only 16 year old them could see themselves now.
(She has a moment when she looks at Jack where her stomach flips, thinking of the day they could be the ones at the altar. She quickly focuses her attention back to the front)
Cam and Amanda are pronounced husband and wife and she cheers as he dips her and kisses her, beaming and tearing up and laughing as she hears Nick wolf-whistle. People start dispersing, the large heated patio hosting a cocktail hour before the doors to the reception hall open back up again.
While she’s sipping on a glass of wine, she hears a familiar voice calling her name and she beams, carefully making sure she doesn’t spill any wine on Sean’s tuxedo as he towers over her and hugs her tightly. He introduces himself to Jack and she watches in slight amusement as they talk.
Sean and her never really were friends, more friends by association. He was more in the popular crowd in the school that Ashley herself was never inclined to push her way through. Her and Sean shared plenty of classes together though, and always got along when forced to work together. And in another life, sometimes Ashley thinks that she would’ve had a crush on the blonde boy.
Instead, she dated one of his teammates. And, well, that turned out the way it did.
(Ashley rolls her eyes when Sean makes a comment about how it “makes complete sense that you’re the one who ended up dating a professional athlete” because sure, Sean. Sure.)
Jack may be among many Massachusetts natives who live and die for the Bruins and are not hesitant in chirping him within 5 minutes of meeting him, but he smiles genuinely as his hand instinctively finds a way on her lower back. After dating Ashley for over a year, he’s used to the good-intentioned bluntness of New Englanders. She only starts rolling her eyes when high school gets brought up and stories about her start piling up. In contrast, Jack loves this and just eggs them on, eager to hear the stories.
With a quick glance at the seating chart when they’re all starting to filter back into the reception hall, she finds that the high school crowd is split between two tables, and that Cam kept to his word and put her and Alex at different ones. The tables next to each other, but still. She won’t have to worry about making accidental awkward eye contact with him across her chicken. She’s the slightest bit surprised she hasn’t crossed direct paths with him yet. But there’s enough people that they wouldn’t ever be forced to interact. And maybe that’s for the best.
Dinner passes by without incident, Ashley squeezing both Cam and Amanda tight as they come around to toast every table as Jack gives Cam a tight bro-hug and Amanda a polite kiss on the cheek. The dance floor starts to open up, and as usual, Ashley’s one of the first ones on, dragging Jack and practically their whole table out. She feels light on her feet and happy as she leans into Jack with a big smile. He ditches his suit jacket at the table and his pink tie is loosened and she thinks he looks so handsome. She’s happily tipsy enough where the curious glances and whispers from probably the entire fucking reception hall about why an NHL player is here don’t bother her. She knows he’s used to it. She doesn’t know how.
(Jack may not know everything of the lore and context behind Ashley’s relationship with the people she knows here, but he knows her and how deeply she feels and nostalgic she can get and how that can change her perception of her own memories and how that in turn, can make her extremely self critical.
So this whole evening, he’s tried to make it as easy as possible, talking with her old friends and classmates — which isn’t much of an ask, they’re nice enough — and just squeezing her hand or waist or kissing her temple or cheek when he feels her focus trailing off. If she talks to Alex and wants him there, he’ll be right next to her. If not, he’ll make himself scarce. Whatever she wants)
Ashley’s resting at her chair while Jack’s in a casual conversation with Cam as Alex comes up behind Cam, tapping him on the shoulder. She swallows and sits up straight and Jack automatically places a gentle hand on her back. Cam and Alex exchange a few words she can’t hear before Cam turns his attention back to her and Jack feels a surge of gratitude towards Cam, who looks extremely apologetic.
Jack watches as she stands up and steps towards Alex with a small smile. “Hey.”
Alex blinks. “Hi.” She gives him a quick hug before stepping back next to Jack as he stands up. “Alex, this is Jack, my boyfriend. Jack, Alex.”
“Nice to meet you, man.” Jack says with a firm, polite handshake and he doesn’t really see (or care about) Alex’s reaction before turning back to Ashley again, trying to read her. She gives him an almost imperceptible nod. Jack’s eyes flicker to Cam, who also nods behind Alex and he clears his throat. “I’m gonna get a refill. You two want anything?”
“All good, man.”
“Rum and coke, heavier on the coke?”
“You got it,” Jack presses a quick kiss to her hair before he and Cam walk to the bar.
Jack waves to the bartender for a whiskey sour for himself as Cam gets a gin and tonic. They both lean against the counter and Jack sighs, watching Alex take Jack’s previous seat. “Was that a good idea? Leaving them alone?” Because he knows her, of course, but Cam’s known her longer. And he had a front row seat to her and Alex’s friendship before they got together, their relationship when they got together, and the fallout of their breakup.
“Honestly? I don’t know. But they’re both 26 year old mature adults.” Cam’s eyes flit over to a redhead woman a couple seats away from the bar and waves her over. Jack’s trying to remember if he’s met her tonight
“Hi Cam,” she says lightly.
“Hey yourself,” he nods over in the direction of her and Alex. “You initiate that?”
She snorts, “Of course I did.” She perches herself on a stool and sticks her hand out to Jack. “I don’t think we’ve met yet. I’m Francesca, but please call me Fran. I’m Alex’s girlfriend.”
Jack gives her a small smile. This is something. “Jack. Ashley’s boyfriend.”
“I’m aware,” she teases. “I grew up in Jersey and my brother’s a huge hockey fan. I’ve been to a couple of your games throughout the years.”
“Always nice to meet a fan,” He responds smoothly and genuinely. “Especially in a room filled with Bruins fans that could honestly poison my drink at any moment and I wouldn’t be surprised.”
“Yeah, yeah. You’re lucky there are no Rangers fans here.” Cam waves him off as Jack and Fran laugh.
“What a way to meet someone for the first time,” Fran says.
“While our exes are talking for the first time in over four years?” Jack says and Fran and Cam both snort. “You could say that.”
She turns to Cam, “Cam, you can go off and mingle, you know? It’s your wedding. Jack and I will be fine here.”
Jack opens his mouth to agree but Cam just shakes his head. “It’s fine. I need a second to breathe anyways. And also make sure this doesn’t go downhill.”
“Ashley seems like a smart girl and Alex isn’t that stupid,” Fran says. “They wouldn’t make a fuss at your wedding.”
Cam sighs and Jack thinks about how thankful he is that Cam has been there for his girlfriend way before Jack even knew her. Jack then turns to Fran and asks how she and Alex met and the conversation starts there, all three of them turning to the two exes from time to time to make sure there’s no flames or glasses being thrown.
Fran talks about how she and Alex met at work and laughs in amusement when Jack explains that it was the same with him and Ashley, talking about how Ashley had been filling in for a colleague for an interview and Jack practically fell in love with her the second he saw her and had to tell himself to not sound stupid in front of the pretty girl.
And honestly, as Jack talks to Fran, he laughs to himself a bit ironically. She reminds him a bit of Ashley. A bit too much for him personally and harsh in a different way than his girlfriend, but decent company nonetheless. So maybe he and Alex are more alike than they think.
Meanwhile, the conversation happening merely 20 feet away between two exes is not as casual. Not as comfortable.
“Been a long time, huh?” Alex remarks.
Ashley tries not to scoff. “Four years.”
Alex curses under his breath. “Yeah. How are you?”
What a loaded question. She goes along with it. “I’m good.”
“Cam mentioned you’re in New York?”
“I am. Moved out there about a year after college for work. Then went to grad school there.”
“Journalist?”
She shrugs. “More or less. The title’s changed a couple times throughout the years but all in that field.”
“That’s awesome.” He runs a hand through his hair and it looks so familiar yet unfamiliar. “I still remember when you told me you got into BU. Seems like the path was always laid out for you, huh?”
She’ll have to unpack that one later. “Guess so. How about you? I heard you were in Portland. Real estate, right?”
He nods, “Yeah.”
“That’s great. I’m really glad you’re doing well.”
“Thanks.” A moment of silence there. “For what it’s worth, it is really good to see you again.”
Ashley lets out a genuine smile. Small, but genuine. “Same.”
The sound of his laughter kinda aches a bit, but not in a way that has her sad. Just nostalgic. There is some easy banter, and somewhere in the back of her mind, Ashley’s remembering a bit of why she loved him in the first place.
There’s a pause in the conversation, before she continues, “I haven’t gotten a chance to meet whoever you’re here with yet, but-”
“Fran.”
“Fran, right.” she says. “But I’ve heard a bit. How long have you two been together?”
“Are we really going to do this?”
She swallows the urge to fire back, shrugging instead. “Why not? And don’t pretend like you’re not curious about Jack either. I figured I might as well just go first.”
Alex laughs. “Around three years for Fran and I.”
“You love her?”
“I do. A lot.”
She smiles. Genuinely this time. “Good. I’m glad to hear it.”
“How about you and Mr. NHL Superstar?”
Again, she swallows down her instinct to fire back. “A little over a year now.”
“You happy?”
“Very.”
Alex nods once and doesn’t quite smile but has a pleasant expression on his face. “Cam said that he likes him. Which is a lot, considering I’m pretty sure he used to think that he was a cocky asshole.”
Ashley knows it’s not meant in that way because she knows that her boyfriend has somewhat of a reputation, but she gets defensive. “People aren’t always what they seem. Even if he’s a pest on the ice sometimes, he’s a wonderful guy.” You should know, she wants to say. You were the exact same way in high school.
They’re trickling into dangerous territory. She wonders if he’ll take the bait. If he does, she wonders if she’ll be strong enough not to fall for it. She wonders if he’ll apologize, not because she needs it, but because she knows she deserved one all those years ago.
Alex leans back casually, putting his arm over the empty chair next to him. “From me to Jack fucking Hughes. I don’t know if I should be flattered or offended.”
Ashley doesn’t know at all how she’s supposed to take that. Like everything he’s always done, he says it casually, taking a drink of water as she’s figuring out how to respond. She doesn’t. For the first time, she feels like she doesn’t have control of this conversation.
He notices she has no response and keeps going. “Hey, he’s a decent player and the money can’t hurt. I’m glad you’re happy.”
She swallows. A gold digger? Is that really what he’s hinting at?
Ashley almost sighs in relief when she catches sight of Jack, Cam and a woman who she presumes is Fran walking back towards them. Immediately she plasters on a smile and introduces herself to Fran, because it’s not her fault that her boyfriend still has the ability to get under her skin even so many years after their break-up. Jack presses a rum and coke in her hand silently and she thanks him quietly before making small talk with Fran. Just having Jack next to her has her blood pressure lowering. Soon enough, they all but shove Cam back into his own wedding and bid farewell as Fran excuses her and Alex and heads over to chat with someone she doesn’t recognize.
Jack leads her outside of the main reception hall into one of the hallways, where there are people sporadically chatting and also getting away from the music for a second.
Jack grabs her drink and faces her with a concerned look. “Ash? You okay? It seemed to get a little…tense at times.”
Ashley shrugs and chuckles. It’s bitter though, and he knows it, immediately placing a grounding hand on her waist. “I was how I always am to everyone.”
“Sure,” he responds skeptically.
She sighs. “It was fine. I’m fine. It didn’t go badly. I don’t know if it was good. It just…was.” She squeezes her eyes shut. “It was fine. It’s not a big deal. It’s been four fucking years and it’s not like I love him anymore. I shouldn’t-”
“Hey. Stop. None of that,” Jack says softly but firmly, leaning in closer and kissing her forehead as she bites her bottom lip harshly. He holds her hand gently and presses it against his chest. “Open your eyes, baby. Take some breaths with me.”
She obeys, looking into blue eyes that have become another home for her and taking deep breaths. “Thanks.”
“Always. Wanna talk about it?”
She debates in her mind. “No. It’s a wedding. Let’s go back and have fun and dance.”
“You sure?”
She nods, before placing a peck on his lips. “I’ll probably be more in my feelings tomorrow about it. Or the next week. But for now, come dance with me.”
“Lead the way.”
Ashley doesn’t even look at Alex’s direction for the rest of the night, instead looking at Jack when she feels like the floor beneath her is gonna get pulled away. The stupidly romantic thing is, she knows he’ll catch her everytime.
three - one year and nine months
“What do you think?”
Jack looks up from where he’s sitting on her bed and his eyes pop open, jaw dropping with it. He tosses his phone to the side. “Ash. Holy shit.”
Ashley twirls around in the yellow ruffle dress. “I like this one the most, but I don’t think it’s fancy enough.”
She looks up to see him biting his lip, eyes scanning her body. She blushes as he beckons her to stand inbetween his legs. “Don’t care. You have to wear this one, please. It fits you perfectly.”
She smoothes down the ruffles. “Are you sure it’s fancy enough?”
“Honey, most of the guys probably won’t even be wearing ties,” she settles her hands in his hair. “Wear this one. I know you love it and you look beautiful in it.”
She lets out a breath. “Okay, yeah. I can pair it with those flower earrings and matching bracelet and I think Scarlett has white heels I could borrow and-”
“Woah there,” he chuckles, rubbing his thumbs on the fabric at her hips. “Did you have too much coffee today? You’re talking a million miles a minute.”
“No,” she drawls out. “I’m just…nervous? This is the first thing we’re going to that’s so…”
“Public?” He finishes for her. She nods. He pushes her gently so that she’s sitting next to him. “I get that. I’m a bit nervous too. But I’ll be there the whole time. And you’ll have my parents and Quinn. And Nico will be there too. Besides, you’re great with people. I’ve seen you in action.”
She shrugs modestly. “That’s not what I’m worried about.”
“Then what is it you’re worried about?”
She swallows at his tone, because she doesn’t think he gets it. Why would he? He’s not the one that’s going to be scrutinized by his fans. At least not to the degree she would be. “Everyone else’s thoughts.”
Jack nods slowly in realization. He leans in to kiss her lips twice. She has to admit it makes her feel a bit better. His kisses usually do. “You know no one else’s opinions mean anything. Besides, it’s very clear to anyone that I’m happily taken.”
And he has a point. She’s made an appearance on his Instagram with two photos in his annual summer dump — one was just of her in the city and the other was of the two of them by the lake in Michigan — and he hadn’t tagged her, but it was clearly a message to the world that he wasn’t a single man. Social media doesn’t matter and it never will, but it had been a decision they both had come to, Jack approaching her gently and asking if he could post them.
But having it through a screen and having it in real life is different.
“I know it’s stupid,” she says. “But you know me. I don’t particularly enjoy being out of my element.”
“I know, I know,” he bumps her knee with his. “It’ll be fun though. We’ll get drunk the night before and maybe I’ll be hungover the next morning and you get to tell Luke if I do anything embarrassing.”
Ashley laughs. “That does sound fun.”
“Exactly.” He cups her face in his hands. “I gotcha, baby. Always.”
She trusts in that when she lands in Boston a few days later. She trusts in that as she gets swept in a world she’s not quite comfortable in, but finds there are a lot more similarities than differences compared to environments she’s been in. She’s a journalist after all. It’s her job in a way to blend into different lives in order to get the best and most impactful stories. She trusts in that as she’s rolling her eyes fondly at Jack, who’s chatting with practically everyone at the bar. She doesn’t think she’s ever seen this many hockey players in one room. She trusts in that as Jack then always drags whoever he’s talking to so that he can introduce her.
For someone who has always valued their privacy, Jack is making it pretty obvious that the “stunning girl in the floral shirt” is his. Ashley can’t say she hates it, even if it’s a little bold for her particular taste.
“He looks happy, doesn’t he?” Ellen asks as they both watch Jack across the room with Auston Matthews. Ashley’s cousins in Toronto would be freaking out right now.
Ashley snickers. “Drunk or happy?”
“Both?” Ellen raises her glass up to knock it against Ashley’s in a toast.
“I’ll drink to that.”
“Thank you for coming. I know it means a lot to Jack that you’re here.”
“Thank you all for having me,” Ashley responds, suddenly a bit shy. “It’s, been, uh, a bit overwhelming, to be honest.”
“I can imagine,” Ellen smiles sympathetically. “All this hockey stuff, business wise, is more Jimmy’s scene than mine.”
“Really?” Ashley thinks to all that Jack’s told her about his mother and all the warmth Ellen has emitted since they’ve met, not to mention how everyone they’ve talked to — player, coach, agent — has gravitated towards Ellen.
To her credit, Ellen chuckles. “That’s fair. Jack tells me that you know how to work a room, which is something that Jimmy’s always said about me.”
Ashley traces the rim of her glass. “I think Jack gives me too much credit.”
“I’m not sure about that,” Ellen says with a knowing smile. “I read your article the other day. The one about the family who’s had to travel across the country to get care for their child. Quinn sent it to me, actually.” Quinn read it? She doesn’t remember sending it to him. Did Jack send it to him? “It’s an incredible piece of work. How long did that take you?”
“From start to finish? Around two months.”
Ellen grins, placing a motherly hand on her shoulder. “You’re so talented, honey. I try to keep up with everything you write, but you do so much that sometimes I lose track.”
"You really don’t have to do that. But thank you, Ellen. T-that means a lot to me.”
“What does Mom not have to do?” Jack asks, squeezing himself next to his girlfriend.
“Read my articles.”
Jack grins. “Why not? They’re so good. Our family group chat is filled with them. Dad always loves your profiles.”
Ashley swallows. She’s pretty confident that the Hughes family likes her, but the fact that they all keep track of her published articles is a bit too much for her to handle right now. She downs the rest of her beer and waves Jack away when he opens his mouth to ask if she wants his. Instead, he asks the bartender for a ginger ale. Ashley’s grateful.
The next day, Ashley smiles as Jack’s walking the carpet. He’s up for the Hart trophy this year and as he squats down to greet a little boy and sign his jersey, Ashley can’t help but let her love and pride for him soar. She’s as out of the way as she can be, trying not to get overwhelmed with all the voices and flashes around her. It helps that Ellen and Jim seem to always be nearby and she makes fast friends with Nina and Luca, who are watching Nico do similar things.
She gets pulled out of her own world with a familiar hand on her waist. “Hey,” Jack murmurs into her ear.
“Hi.”
“Do you wanna jump into a few pictures with me?” Jack asks softly. “It’ll only take a few minutes. No pressure if not.”
“Uh, yeah. Sure.”
He beams, offering an arm as he leads them over to where the photographers are. She tries not to blink too much as the flashes hurt her eyes and hopes she and Jack are looking in the same direction.
“You look beautiful,” he pairs his sincere compliment with a squeeze of her waist.
She smiles at the cameras for a few seconds before turning to him slightly. “You already said that.”
“I know. It’s worth repeating.”
Thankfully, it’s only about 30 seconds before everyone else — Quinn, Jack’s parents and Nico’s family — are being ushered in for a group photo. She finds herself inbetween Jack and Nico and giggles as Nico tries to blow his hair out of his face. She takes pity on him after a few tries and she reaches up to fix it for him quickly, Nina laughing on the other side of her brother.
“Stop messing with it,” Ashley scolds lightly through clenched teeth, smiling for the pictures. “You’re gonna make it worse.” She giggles when Nico pokes her side a few seconds later.
When Jack wins the Hart, Ashley leaps out of her seat in excitement. To her, he’s always going to be the best player she knows because she sees firsthand how hard he works, but it’s nice that his peers are recognizing it too. He places a quick kiss on her lips before going up on stage and Ashley’s clapping and laughing to herself. He was dreading having to make any sort of speech.
After the ceremony, she just follows everyone to whatever swanky rooftop seemingly the entire NHL is gathering at. She finds herself flocking towards Nina for a lot of the evening as they both exchange fun stories and memories of their own lives over drinks. Ashley thinks she could keep talking to Nina for the rest of her life. She’s just so damn cool.
The next day, she drags Jack around the BU campus and is happy pointing out buildings that she had classes in, cried in, cheered in and lived her life in. They walk from one end of Com Ave to the other, Ashley dutifully pointing out Agganis Arena (“I’m sure Trevor has some good memories in this building”), their starting point.
She stands in front of the College of Communication building and stops. Jack dutifully stops next to her. “This building kinda looks like shit.”
Ashley snorts. “Yeah, I know. Especially compared to all the science buildings.” She bites her lip. “It all started here.”
“What did?”
“The dream.”
And yeah, maybe that’s a bit dramatic. But Jack said similar things when he brought her to Toronto earlier this year, so she knows he understands.
Almost two years together now, she’s convinced that no one will really ever understand her like Jack does.
He nudges her hip with his, the breeze blowing comfortably through her hair and rustling the plants around them. They watch as a student walks through the front doors. “Wanna go in?”
She shakes her head. “Nah, I’m good.” She tugs at his hand while sipping the lavender lemonade from Pavement in the other. “Come on. I’ll show you Bay State. I lived there my junior year after I came back from studying abroad in Dublin.”
Bay State Road is beautiful as always in the Boston summer, Ashley’s hand in Jack’s. She drags him out into the middle of the road and only squeals once when a car is coming and he pulls her to the sidewalk.
Campus isn’t the same when classes aren’t in session, but she hopes Jack can still feel some of the magic in the air through her stories.
“It suits you.”
She turns to Jack. “Hm?”
“This city. It suits you.”
“Oh,” she blushes for some reason. “Thanks.”
“Do you miss it here?”
“All the time,” Ashley admits. “New York is great, but Boston will always be home.”
“Would you think of working here? If given the option?” Jack asks.
“Maybe,” Ashley squeezes Jack’s hand, “But I also have reasons to stay in New York.”
He smirks, but it quickly transitions into something gentler. “Yeah?”
She could throw something snarky back at him, but she looks around the brownstones and lets out a deep breath. This is home, but flashes of Hoboken and East Village flicker in her mind and that’s also home.
She looks at Jack and feels overwhelmed. Oh. It’s Boston. It’s Hoboken. It’s East Village. It’s him. Jack is home.
four - two years
“Big day, huh?”
Ashley just smiles at Carissa, nudging her side. “We’ve come a long way since that phone call at 2 a.m.”
Carissa just snorts. “That phone call got us here.”
“True,” Ashley squeezes her arm as they make their way to their assigned table. “Love you, girly.”
“Love you more. I’m proud of us.”
Ashley grins, looking around as everyone is mingling amongst each other. There are past award winners here and Ashley’s already done some of her internal fangirling, especially when Lynsey Addario came up to her and wanted to talk to her.
She’s still decently new in this industry and knows she has so much to learn, but it’s comforting to see that all of her hard work has paid off.
People are starting to take their seats and Ashley looks around at her colleagues. Everyone’s dressed up and looks so lovely and Ashley smiles, looking down at her midnight blue dress. When Jack had seen her walk out of the changing room in it a few weeks ago, his eyes had popped out.
(“Fuck,” he had said. “Now I’m even more pissed I can’t make it to the dinner.”)
And yeah, it would be nice if he was here. But the Devils are playing the Islanders tonight. It sucks that he’s so close but so far away, but after two years now, it’s just part of the gig. And they make it work. So Ashley isn’t too upset about it, even if Jack is.
She’s a bit confused when there is an empty seat next to her, as it seems like the ballroom is filled. There’s no nametag there either, but her attention soon drifts off to the front. She has to bite her lip to stop herself from smiling too hard.
The Pulitzer Prize Awards Ceremony at Columbia University, also her alma mater in a way. Her 18-year-old-self who was sitting in the front row of Introduction to Journalism in Boston could’ve only dreamed about this day.
Opening remarks start and Ashley really does try to listen, but her eyes glaze over as her mind drifts off. She claps as the first few awards are being presented. She thinks about all the hours that it took to get this piece down, but also all the hours before — in her classes, at her college paper, in her internships, during her job search. The times she wanted to throw in the towel and just do something else. Anything else.
“I didn’t miss too much, did I?” She blinks, turning to the voice next to her. She freezes.
“Jack?” She breathes out. She hasn’t been sleeping much this week, so this could very well be a hallucination.
He beams and she reaches to place her hand on his cheek and she realizes as she scans her eyes up and down. Oh. He’s in her favorite suit of his. And he’s here.
“Oh my god,” she wraps her arms around his neck as her whole table cheers. Thankfully, there’s a lull in the ceremony where the whole room is blanketed in a low buzz. “What the f-don’t you have a game?”
“Technically,” Jack says, nodding at her coworkers with a charming smile. “Took a personal day.”
“What? You can do that?”
“Yeah,” he shrugs, like he didn’t just skip a game to be here. He rubs his thumb on her shoulder as he kisses her temple. “This is a huge deal, baby. I wasn’t gonna miss it. I’m so proud of you.”
“Lindy’s not mad? Nico’s not mad?”
Jack snorts. “The second you won, I told Lindy to count me out for the game so he can do what he wants with that. Nico’s lowkey pissed he also can’t be here.” He turns to Carissa on the other side and beams. “Hey Care. Congrats.”
“Thanks, Jack,” Carissa beams. “Surprised you pulled this off.”
“Surprised we pulled this off.”
Ashley looks at Carissa. “You knew about this?”
“Of course. Who do you think made sure he would have a seat?”
She looks between her colleague and her boyfriend. Something creeps up her throat that feels a lot like love.
When her and Carissa are recognized and they have to go up to accept the award and give a short speech, it’s kinda a blur. All she remembers is Jack’s kiss on her cheek and receiving a standing ovation as she and Carissa walk up together. So many hours with her eyes glazed over glaring at the laptop. So many hours interviewing with people and reconfirming facts. So many hours dedicated to this one piece.
She wouldn’t have it any other way.
As Carissa is speaking, she locks eyes with Jack. He’s beaming and his eyes are actually sparkling. His hair tousled and he’s so handsome and he’s hers.
(She almost trips walking back to him)
He chuckles, pulling her into another tight hug. “You’re amazing, baby. Congratulations.”
“Thank you,” she chokes out. “Thank you for calming me down all the times I was freaking out.”
“Of course. I’m sure all those glasses of cold water helped,” he jokes. She always said the ice cold water he would place next to her laptop would wake up her brain.
She laughs into his shoulder. “They did.”
He pulls away and just stares at her, smile still on his face. Their attention is taken away by someone who wants to congratulate Ashley and has no recognition on their face when looking at Jack.
(Jack looks on with pride)
plus one - three years and four months
Stanley Cups are interesting. Even some of the best athletes of all time have never gotten one. And some that are only slightly above average perhaps were just placed on the right team in the right season.
But this Stanley Cup, in Ashley’s completely unbiased opinion, this one was fully deserved. By every single person on the team.
She doesn’t think she’ll ever forget the absolute joy in Nico’s eyes as he lifted the cup in the air to a roaring crowd at The Rock, or how long the hug between Jack and Luke was when the final whistle sounded, or seeing Ellen cry as her two sons beckoned her in for a picture with the cup, her other son and husband standing close by with pride in their eyes.
The picture of her and Jack by the cup as he’s kissing her cheek as she smiles so widely her eyes are shut might be her favorite picture of them of all time.
Ashley had wondered if Jack was going to bring the cup to Toronto or Michigan. He ended up bringing it to Toronto while Luke brought it to Michigan. It ended up being all the same, since they were both present at both.
Jack winning the Cup is obviously a huge celebration. But he’s not the only one with something to celebrate.
Yesterday, when they were out to lunch with some of his extended family, Ashley had found out by phone that she was just promoted to be a director of her team. After her phone call, she had just covered her mouth in shock as she sat down on a nearby bench. It wasn’t until a few minutes later when a concerned Jack came up to her and asked what was wrong, before she told him and he smothered her face in kisses.
The parade around his pseudo-hometown is absolutely insane. Ashley doesn’t even know how she has a voice by mid-afternoon, much less how Jack has one considering that he’s been yelling all day. At some point, she forces him to sit down and chug a giant water bottle.
But she can’t overthink too hard. Her phone’s filled with pictures of Jack with his loved ones and she just feels proud.
Some of Jack’s extended family who still live in the area offered their home to host a party that night with just friends and family. Ashley did all she could to help prepare, which included coming over to decorate the night before and parking herself in the kitchen the second they got there to offer a helping hand. Well, she tried, before every single person pushed her away and insisted she go join the celebrations.
She finds herself in a long, in-depth conversation with one of Jack’s younger cousins who’s thinking about working in media when she notices it suddenly becomes quiet. Suddenly, the light flickers off and Ashley is confused.
Jack then walks in with a circular cake with candles lit paired with his beautiful smile. Ashley blinks in confusion as everyone’s eyes fall on her and before she can ask what the hell is going on, Luke bounds over to her and swings an arm around her shoulder, shaking her.
“Congrats on your promotion, Ash!” Luke exclaims.
Her mouth drops open and she looks around as everyone in the room cheers and shouts out their congratulations. She chuckles in shock as Jack walks closer. And then suddenly, all she can focus on is him.
“What are you doing?” She whispers, suddenly wanting to cry.
“Come on,” he says with the softest smile. “You didn’t think I’d just keep the news to myself, did you?”
“But this is your day,” she chokes out.
“My day. Your day. It’s all the same, eh?” Jack nods at the candles. “Hurry up. My arms are getting tired.”
A watery laugh from her before she blows out the candles at everyone’s cheers. Jack places the cake on a nearby table before smothering her in a tight hug. Ashley’s heart could burst right now at the love she feels from the people in the room and the person in her arms. She gets a chance to really look at the cake, which is white and sage with “Congratulations Jack and Ashley!” in beautiful script at the center. The lights turn back on and Quinn’s the first one who comes up to hug her. As Ellen is giving Ashley a kiss on the cheek, she sees Jack over Ellen’s shoulder, smiling at her.
She swallows as she pulls away, before glancing at the ring on her left finger. Ashley’s never let herself want much in her life. But if someone asked her what she wants with her life, she would just place them in this room. Right here. Right now.
(They cut the cake together. Ashley feels a buzzing joy throughout her bones)
#the winter fic exchange 2k24#k writes#hockey fanfic#hockey writing#hockey blurb#jack hughes#jack hughes fic#jack hughes blurb#nhl#nhl writing#nhl blurb#nhl fic#jack hughes x oc#jack hughes x ofc#new jersey devils
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It's Black Friday, which means I'm, of course, thinking about Starkid... and I have a theory that the specific order that the LiB are always listed in (Pokotho, Bliklotep, T'noy Karaxis, Nibblephem, Wiggoth Y'Wrath) are, in fact, the order of how powerful they are, from least to greatest.
Let's start with Pokey. Now, on the surface, yeah, being able to completely take over people and turn them into hollow shells that speak your voice may be pretty damn powerful, but I think this actually works to the LiB's detriment. Think back to what Hidgens said, way back in TGWDLM---the existence of the hivemind would result in world peace, because if they're all under one mind, one "Singular Voice," there's nothing to fight about... but the LiB are all about sowing chaos, driving people to ruin. And if Pokey takes over everyone, there's nobody left to mess with. Even Webby outright compares Pokey to the rest of his brothers, which speaks a lot to how they see him---short-sighted, close-minded, and probably a little selfish. (I could also bring up the fact that unlike the others, he seems a lot more serious and even somber in his infliction, tying into his stone-face mask, but that's a whole other thing.) He's also, interestingly enough, one of two LiB who weren't introduced by way of Sniggles---even Nibbly got a little song from two of them after he did his Honey Queen munching---so maybe that means something? Idk.
Blinky definitely seems to have a good deal of power, if the horrors going on in Watcher World are anything to go by, but it also seems kinda... limited. From what we can see (heh), Blinky just operates out of this theme park, and unlike the others? He actually got defeated. Alice and Bill broke out of the effects, flooded Watcher World, and made it out with their bond strengthened rather than broken. Compare this with Pokey succeeding in taking over the world in TGWDLM---even if he failed later in Yellow Jacket---Tinky easily pulling the rug out from Ted's feet in Time Bastard, Nibbly snacking on Linda without so much as a second thought in Honey Queen, and Wiggly fucking starting a nuclear war in Black Friday despite his cult getting defeated and him not actually manifesting, you gotta wonder... what's up with Blinky failing? But I think his human look in NPMD speaks to that---it's a very laid-back look, and I saw someone suggest that he (or she, here, I guess) is trying to emulate the type of teen who's just there to chill, sit back, and watch TV. Maybe Blinky's whole deal is that he's fairly passive, and just wants to watch the chaos happen while he nudges some folks in the right direction. I could be completely wrong, of course.
Now, Tinky as the brother who's smack-dab in the middle actually makes a lot of sense. His domain is time itself---that's nothing to sneeze at! He's incredibly devious, and he always seems to get what he wants! His specialty is driving people insane! But when you look at the fact that he seems a little too chaotic, even for his brothers, and the fact that his eldritch form is, uh... kinda tame, since it's literally just a yellow goat, you have to wonder if Tinky suffers from middle-child syndrome. He's powerful, sure, but he's weird. Either he gets overlooked or he's just there to be along for the ride---I'm just guessing this based on the fact that he had, like two lines in The Summoning, even though he's probably the reason the messed-up timeline in Hatchetfield exists. He's just the crazy middle child, and honestly? That works. Good for him.
Nibbly, I think, is the only LiB (aside from our tentacle boi) who is explicitly stated to be considered "unique," with a power set that automatically puts him on a different level than a lot of his brothers. He's the only one who can regularly manifest in our reality, which makes him the only one who can physically affect the real world---and sure, that means eating pagent winners, but it could also mean a shitton of other things. It's kind of amazing that with his constant hunger and the power to manifest on Earth once a year, he only limits himself to one sacrifice... and maybe that's the point. Maybe the sacrifice only exists because Nibbly used to use that night to cause as much devastation as possible, and he's calmed down since then. Which, uh... yeah, scary thought.
And, yeah, Wiggly is obvious. He's in charge, he makes the decisions, he's always revered over the others---it's pretty clear that he's the most powerful brother, and though everything he does in Black Friday speaks to that, I have a feeling that we don't actually know the extent of Wiggly's true power... and maybe, that's the point. The other LiB get clear-cut domains---control, surveillance, time, and hunger, with not a lot of room for wiggle room, if you'll forgive the pun---but for Wiggly, it's not so obvious. We know that his line in The Summoning is "Wiggly wants his wrath," but it's not just wrath that he preys on. In Black Friday, he uses what people want to become strong, quite literally marketing himself as the solution to all of their problems. In NPMD, he asks Steph, Pete, and Grace for the thing they cherish. He's not just wrath, but greed and desire, and that adds a punch. Also, that extra bit of complexity makes him line up perfectly as a devil figure.
And considering all of this, you have to wonder---where does Webby fall in all of this? Is she stronger than her brothers, and it's just that they outnumber her, or is she weaker? Is she older or younger (this might've been answered, I'm not as caught up on livestream lore as some may be)? Is it just her in the White, or does she have sisters? She's described as "A Queen in White," not "The Queen in White," which points to there maybe being more, but why haven't we seen more? Why is it just Webby fighting against her brothers, and why can't she do more?
*pauses*
Wow. Okay. Jesus, that got away from me.
Anyways, the Hatchetfield saga has super cool horror worldbuilding
#starkid#hatchetfield#tgwdlm#team starkid#black friday starkid#nerdy prudes must die#the lords in black#wiggog y'wrath#nibblenephim#bliklotep#pokotho#t'noy karaxis#webby hatchetfield
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Pirates of the Caribbean: On Stranger Tides ... sentence starters
“Oh! A knife?”
“Walk or die.“
“You're killing her!”
“All part of the plan, yes?“
“Such beauty. Yet deadly.“
“Admit it. You still love me.”
“You are aware of the ritual?“
“You bastard, how could you?“
“Wait! I am with child... yours.“
“I heard where you're headed.“
“How can you say I used you?“
“All die. Even you. Soon, I hear.“
“The lies I told you were not lies.”
“That's very good, may I use that?“
“As do I. Always have, always will.”
Oh no, no, I've seen a thing or two.”
“You're either with us or against us!“
“I can save you. You need only ask.“
“I've actually never been that drunk.“
“He's religious, I believe it's required.“
“Who's to say I won't live forever, eh?“
And how will I get free of these bonds?“
“You lied to me by telling me the truth?“
“Mistook it for a brothel. Honest mistake.“
“I'm not with you, neither am I against you!“
“You will go. You will return. Or I will kill her.“
“I was wrong. Not every soul can be saved.“
“Maybe you don't believe in the supernatural?”
“I may have had... briefly, mind you... stirrings.”
“Face is familiar. Have I... threatened you before?“
“I cannot save you both. One of you must sacrifice.“
“You've stolen me. And I'm here to take meself back.“
“If not for me, you would never have been captured...”
“I think you might be better off if you just... stay out of it.”
“I'm starting to think you don't know where you're going.“
“It's not the destination so much as the journey, they say.“
“Have I mentioned, sir, what a lovely daughter you have?“
“Mutiny served me well. It gained me an audience with you.“
“Your father saved you. Perhaps his soul is now redeemed.“
“Does this face looks like it's been to the Fountain of Youth?“
“Did everyone see that? Because I will not be doing it, again.”
“You're the one who insisted on bringing the bloody mermaid!“
“If I don't kill a man every now and then, they forget who I am.“
“How is it we can never meet without you pointing something at me?“
“Captain, I wish to report a mutiny. I can name fingers and point names.“
“Seeing as how you're still alive, I say it's all been very successful thus far.“
“You demonstrated a lot of technique for someone I supposedly corrupted.“
“I thought I should give you fair warning, we're taking the ship. Nothing personal.“
“No, no, no, no, not quite all the way to feelings. More like... All right feelings, damn you.“
“You broke free of your bonds thirty minutes ago, waiting for the precise moment to pounce.“
“You know the feeling you get when standing in a high place, the sudden urge to jump... I don’t have it.”
“My God, you will not take her. If you have taken her, give her back. Give her back...please...”
“I be placed in a bewilderment. There I were, resting. And upon a sudden, I hear an ungodly row on deck.“
“Sailors abandoning their posts, without orders, without leave. Men before the mast, taking the ship for themselves.“
“Better to not know which moment may be your last. Every morsel of your entire being alive to the infinite mystery of it all.“
We shall need a crossbow, an hourglass, three goats, one of us must learn to play the trumpet, whilst the other one goes like this.”
Such beauty. Surely you are one of God's own creations and not a descendant of those dark creatures who found no refuge on the Ark.“
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So, I took the time to watch the Attack on Titan finale today.....
I don't know why, because everyone keeps saying that the anime ending was a huge step up from the manga's ending. Jeez, has it really been three years since that dropped the ball?
So I decided I needed to see for myself what it really changed, I had the time so I forced myself through it, to see what exactly the big deal all was; mostly what was different, and what it did that was so far removed from the comic.
Well I gotta admit, I was surprised by what I saw.
The animation was really impressive, much better than what I've seen of MAPPA's handiwork from the rest of this season. The whole thing just kept going bigger and bigger, and it just never seemed to slow down. It's definitely one of the most impressive battles of the series, especially when so much focus on fighting and ending the Titans seemed to be lost after so long. Plus I forgot how stunning MAPPA's backgrounds can be, almost like WIT's. I guess that's what you call "peak" in the anime circle now, huh?
Levi......What can I say, he's an absolute badass, and the battle was worth it just to see him plow through Eren's army of Titans in all of his glory. Nothing can slow this guy down, and he definitely earned his ending. Sure he lost everyone who was near and dear to him but at least he can finally get some measure of peace. A much better finish than what the manga gave us, in its own weird way.
Was surprisingly touching to see the fallen Scouts again btw. Should have had Marco somewhere for Jean's sake, but maybe they can finally move on to a better place, wherever that may be.
Well the Armin and Eren scene pulled no punches, did it? XD Bad puns aside, I was surprised at how emotionally charged that scene was, Eren seemed really sorry for everything. At least he finally owned up to it in the end. Such a shame he was left with so little choice in the end.
And really, I realized how hard I was on Mikasa. She knew the life she thought she and Eren could have was beyond all hope, and in the end she made the right choice, agonizing as it was. In the end Mikasa really was too good for Eren, theirs is a love that was tragically cut short by circumstance. He couldn't help it, she couldn't help it.......Eremika truly is an unsung Shakespearean tragedy.
Oh don't you worry Eren, I'm sure she was thinking of you well beyond ten years. Who could fault her? We all know you meant well....
So........now everyone's saying it took two thousand years if not more for this to happen, huh? Well I guess that sort of makes up for it.....At least nobody we knew and loved lived to see it, right? I guess we can stop blaming Eren for whatever brought this upon Paradis, right?
Well, whatever the case may be, after finally seeing it I can say the anime ending makes up for a lot of what the manga left hanging. Great animation, such raw emotions, the insane music.......It was a long slog, but I'm glad I was proven wrong about everything I have said since the manga ending came out. This really helped to tie everything together much better, made the loss of such a wondrous cast a little easier to swallow. In the end, they gave their hearts, and in the end, it's much better to feeling something than to feel nothing.
So kudos to Studio MAPPA, and kudos to Hajime Isayama, truly I underestimated you. I feel like seeing this animated opened my eyes to so much of what I thought was missing. Suddenly things are so much clearer. Now.......Now I understand.......Eren only did what had to be done. Well played Mr. Isayama, well played.
And with that, I just want to leave with a quick shoutout to the true GOAT of Attack on Titan..........
.......
................
..................................
AS IF, YOU BITCH.
And that's the LEAST of what you deserve, you cunt rag.
That title belongs to THIS girl, right here.
As if there were any force between heaven and earth in this world or the next that could EVER make me forget.....
Oh, one more thing........
.......
..................
................................
April Fools, Folks.
This story ended with the Ocean.
#attack on titan#shingeki no kyojin#mikasa ackerman#eren yeager#armin arlert#hajime isayama#snk spoilers#levi ackerman#snk anime#i hate isayama#anti attack on titan#anti eremika#anti reiner#anti snk 139#aot season 4 part 2#aot season four#aot season 4#snk season 4#snk season 4 part 2#snk final season#aot final season#aot final chapters#aot finale spoilers#aot spoilers#aot anime#aot manga#snk manga#aot fandom#snk fandom#snk angst
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Jason and Scruffy!verse reader doing kid things?
"So," Bruce asked, folding his arms and looking down at where the two of you were, seemingly working on homework while having a whisper screamed argument, "Why did you go see Santa?"
"Because that's what child-things do," Jason said solemnly.
"Child-things," you agree, nodding.
"Wha- you know what, No. I'm sure you think you're very funny. But no. You cannot ask Santa for grape flavor-aide and a switchblade." At 13 you should know better but then- neither of you LOOKED 13 which had probably only added to the 'creepy'.
"You did tell them to go do something," Alfred said, suppressing a smile with difficulty.
"Also we got a picture," Jason said cheerfully, handing it to Bruce. And indeed, Santa and his elves looked unnerved. Almost comically while both of you were plainly trying not to lose your shit laughing.
"You're both horrible," Bruce said shaking his head. "So after you traumatized a mall Santa-"
"We went to the petting zoo so I could pet a cow," you answer.
"And a goat. And we fed a reindeer," Jason added. "Oh. And a really fluffy rabbit."
"The cow's name was Rita. A+ cow. Wouldn't eat," you say, frowning at Jason's math homework and switching your pencil to the other hand to copy his handwriting.
"And?" Bruce prompted, eyes narrowing.
"Threw snowballs at some cops that were hassling a homeless guy," Jason said, "Pockets that was right before-"
"No it wasn't, your decimal was in the wrong place you were gonna send everything into the lake-"
"What Lake?" Bruce sighed.
"Pockets found plans for a catapault. We're gonna build it-"
"Absolutely not," Bruce said, "Stop distracting me from-"
"Are you really gonna yell at us for not getting caught?"
"You did get caught," Bruce said, not sure who instigated it and wondering if he could just ground both of you. "Jim Gordon just called and said two kids matching your description were interfering-"
"With what? An unethical quota system or the bonding rituals of people who peaked in high school and took gym class too seriously?" you ask blandly.
Bruce looked at Alfred for help and the butler simply shrugged. It was always refreshing watching his employers' children run circles around him. And for all the cherubic sweetness of both your faces and your contentment to do engineering for fun... well. Faced with both of you he was a bit outmatched. "Next time you throw snowballs-"
"You're right, Bruce. Next time we'll just throw bricks," Jason mused turning to you, "Do you thing we could build really small catapults and-"
And with nothing more to say, All Bruce could do was turn and walk away. Following Alfred who had had to leave swiftly to avoid losing his composure entirely.
"Child-things?" Bruce asked, shutting the door to the library.
"I couldn't begin to say, sir," Alfred said taking the picture from his hand, "But I do know this is the best Santa picture I've ever seen."
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FREQUENCY: Episode 2 - A Soldier Boy Story
FREQUENCY: A Soldier Boy Story
EPISODE 2: “Uncle Sam”
WORD COUNT: 4,056
PAIRING: Soldier Boy X Reader
WARNINGS: (NSFW) Racial slurs, fatphobia, drugs, and mentions of suicide. Foul language, mentions of sex, or sexual innuendos.
A/N: This story is dark, and covers mature themes. The main character, as well as other major characters, are offensive in nature, and may offend some people. Please peruse with caution, and remember that this is fiction. Reader discretion is advised. Please message me for any questions, comments, or concerns.
Masterlist | Taglist
When John and I would fuck, only he would find it easy to sleep. See, we almost always did it at Vought tower. He had thought my apartment was gross and grimy.
He would snore away, his naked body pressed against mine, his strong arms holding my waist. I’d be up all night. The tower was loud, and I was much too nosy to not listen in on everything going on. Most people had left by the time that I was laying there awake, but the important ones stayed.
Security worked all night, keeping their tabs on literally everything going on in the world. If two Pakistanis were going at it premaritally at a goat farm in the middle of nowhere, Vought would be the first to know.
It was always funny to me that the CIA always assumed they were one step ahead of Vought. That they had the upper hand, and that no matter what, the good guys would always win. Wrong. Vought knew absolutely everything the CIA was doing. They knew every hideout, every operation, every compound, every undercover. Vought, a private company, was the global leader for national security- but no one would ever know that.
John would shift behind me, nuzzling his face into my neck, nibbling on my ear.
“Go to sleep.” He’d say plainly, before drifting back into his own disturbing dream.
Go to sleep, I’d think. Funny. Little did he know I was keeping my tabs on every compound mentioned in terms of Vought, and every event to go along with it. I knew every building the CIA operated. Every property. Every piece of land. Which is why I’m so confident now that I know exactly where Soldier Boy is.
In upstate New York, the CIA has a large base. It spans acres, but in the middle rests a midcentury, concrete bunker. Strong enough to withstand the blast of a nuclear bomb…getting warmer, I think.
After the job I did for Butcher, I went straight home and started doing research. The CIA compound wasn’t visible on any map, but thankfully I was already aware of the coordinates.
The next day I hopped in my shitty car, and drove upstate. I started spying once I saw the first signs of surveillance, which was about twenty miles away from the location. I staked out for about a week, driving closer each day, taking note of every camera, every security checkpoint. I wasn’t in my car after I got close enough, obviously. The closer I got the more inclined I was to walk on foot.
I understand this may seem impossible, I mean, this is the CIA after all. No one is getting past them, right? Wrong. You need to remember, no one would ever see me coming, and they definitely wouldn't see me going. I can hear cameras before I see them, and it’s the same thing with all types of security. The CIA didn’t stand a chance anymore after I was created. Nothing was getting past me. I was born for this mission.
The morning of, I made sure to leave no trace of any research in my apartment. I threw out my computer at the edge of the city before I drove upstate. I prayed to all holy, although I’m not much of the religious type, that my shitty four-door would make it all the way up there without breaking down. As I stepped on the gas, I took a deep breath, shutting off my senses as best as I could until I was in trackable distance. I’d have to savor all five, I’d need them to be as strong as possible. I was going to get my revenge.
This may sound conceited, but I do think I have created the best plan in the history of plans: See, unknown CIA compound number whatever, although large, and unknown to me internally, is quite easy to navigate if you think about it. Let’s think about the five senses here. Sight: I could look through the walls of the building until I feast my eyes upon the, I’m assuming, frozen solid body of Soldier Boy. But this can sometimes be all encompassing, and too much work. Sound: I could always hear him out. Scope out the slowest multiplying cells in the area, until it leads me to the supe popsicle. But again, too much work for what it’s worth. Also I needed to be focusing on nearby agents, cameras, and security. Touch? No idea how that would work, no interest in finding out. Taste? Absolutely not. I don’t even want to know how that would work. But smell? Ahhh smell. That’ll lead me right to it. I can taste the frosted formaldehyde from here, a mile away. I’ll sniff out the frost bitten captain America better than any bloodhound. Smell. That is the way.
I park my car off in a clearing, I think it may have been used as a campsite at one point. There isn’t a camera in sight. It's the dead of night. Leading up to the compound is a long, winding, wooded road. It's a forest boundary, which is nice because I won’t be getting any sort of sound pollution.
I begin to walk parallel to the street through the woods, attaching the silencer to my gun. As I get a half-mile away, I start to take note of small CCTV’s attached to dry, dehydrated fir trees. I begin shooting down every camera I can hear, and as far as the eye can see. This is my collateral. I know once I break him out, CIA intel will be checking every camera to see where we went. They will never see us leave. They’ll never even see me coming. I got a few hundred yards between me and the next scanner.
I reach into my backpack, pulling out scarf, and then wrap my head hijabi style. I’m already wearing a modest, all black outfit. Maybe something similar to a burka. I thought it would steer people away from my trail by posing as a stereotypical supe terrorist. Nothing scares Americans more than a muslim being in places they aren’t supposed to be.
I can see the building now, it's fortunately surrounded by trees, making my breaking and entering a little bit easier. I don’t even know how they can see anything on surveillance with all of this blockage, I think. Hell, the pine needles are getting in the way of my quality of sight.
It's a tight squeeze through shrubbery, but I make it to one of the side doors. Again, I shoot out every camera around me before I even get close to the area. I stop and take a listen. From my spot now, the closest heartbeat I can hear is deep within the compound, maybe at the front security desk. Most agents have gone home by this point.
I’m assuming, if my hearing is correct, there is an obese man sitting at a control panel at the highest point of the building. Similar to that of a bird's nest. He’s asleep, snoring so loud I don’t know how he’s not choking himself. This is too good to be true, I think.
I make my way inside, there was a codebox on the outside of the building which are the easiest contraptions to get into. I smacked the side of it, feeling for the numbers.
I aim for each camera before it can catch me, knocking it out in the center every time.
I take a deep breath. Formaldehyde is all encompassing. I choke on the taste. He’s in the basement.
I go ahead and make my way down multiple floors, once again, getting rid of every camera. This part of the compound is terrifying. Tons of steel and concrete feel suffocating when you’re this far underground. I almost trip over a janitorial cart in the darkness of the stifling halls.
I come face to face with a large steel door. It’s got to be a few feet thick at least. To the right of it is a key pad. Looks pretty high tech, much different from the one on the outside of the building. This one must be new, I think. That’s a good sign. I mean, along with the fact that my eyes begin to water, my nose hairs singing off from the stench of chemicals.
There is a card reader on the side of it for swipe entry. I pull up my finger, and gently tap it onto the corner. It echoes through it. I listen for the preset code. I can hear each four number etchings clear as day. 4459.
The door opens with a flash of a green light and a click. I walk slowly down the hallway. It’s stark, cold. A metallic chamber with no windows. No place for a human being to live, I think. At least he’s not awake to see it.
I round the corner, reaching another door. Fuck. I think to myself, another lock. The code box blinks at me, then speaks to me in a robotic voice.
“Please enter access code.”
I look down at the machine. Again, knocking on the side of it, like the one from before.
“Please enter access code-” I jump at the sound, but before it can finish I type in the numbers again. 4459.
Clink! Green light illuminates from a bulb over my head. The door slides open. Idiots.
There is what looks to be a control panel. It’s windowed, and looking down into a surgical-like dip in the floor. I walk over to the glass. There are buttons and levers riddled around a console.
About fifteen feet below me I visualize him. Most of the lights are off inside of this area, but his body is lit up. He lays like a corpse inside a see-through cryogenic freezer. His heart is beating slowly, maybe less than five beats per minute. His blood barely circulating through his augmented veins.
I take a deep breath, it’s now or never. From what I can tell, the security guard watching over the cameras is still fast asleep. Him, the man at the very front, and the other few scattered around near the archives, are all unaware of my presence in the building.
I open the door to the right of the panel, and make my way down the rickety metal stairs that lead to his futuristic tomb. There he is, fast asleep… or frozen? I’m not sure of the right thing to say. I lean over, looking at his face through the glass. I place both of my gloved hands palm down, feeling my way around to getting him out of there. A latch, which, as I can tell, is connected to a code box. The CIA and their codes. They are just asking for me to break in.
I squat down next to the machine and locate the lock. I do as I do again, knocking on the side of it, and waiting to hear the notches for the numbers. 1919. Really? I go ahead and select them, and watch as the glass casing begins to open up around him. It’s like a vampire coming out of a coffin. A waft of nitrous mist cascades around the room, revealing to me then, the body of a very, very, cold man.
He has an oxygen mask on his face. I go ahead and take that off. The chemicals they have pumping into his veins via IV drip; I rip those off too. The machines tracking his vitals, I unattached, letting them drop to the floor. I can’t see much of anything else that would be keeping him asleep. Unfortunately though, I think I will have to wait for him to thaw out.
I look around the room, checking my watch. I've been in the building for twenty minutes now. I look over at him, he's still not moving. His heart rate is still resting at an undetectable rate. I’ve got to get moving. I start pacing around the room, rubbing my chin with my hand. Think, think, think. I couldn’t bring any ammonia or any other sort of smelling salt because I’d be able to smell it through the container. Migraine waiting to happen. I could always slap him awake, but I’d risk breaking my hand from the sheer strength of his jaw. I could warm him up myself? Rub up on his arms until he begins to heat up.
I look down at his arm, lifting up his wrist with my fore finger and thumb. He may be strong, but I’m sure he doesn’t weigh a ton? Ugh, who am I kidding? This man has got to be over two hundred pounds of pure muscle. THINK woman, think.
Then, by the grace of all holy, I remember the janitorial cart I almost broke my neck on earlier. That’ll do it. I check back down at my watch, twenty-five minutes have passed now. It might not be too hard to drag him all of five minutes.
So, I do just that. Wrapping my arms under his, then securing around his torso, I begin to lift up. No, this will definitely be too hard. I drop him onto the floor, then clamp my hands around his wrists. I start pulling him across the room, then I remember; the stairs. Fuck. Making my way up I’m already drenched in sweat. It's one thing having to carry someone awake, but this supe was all dead weight. I’m praying he wakes up soon.
It takes me ten more minutes on top of the five I had already expected to climb all the stairs back up to where I saw the janitorial cart. Before I go to put him in it, I listen in again. Everyone was still where they were before. The obese security guard is still in desperate need of a CPAP machine. I smile. This is all working out for me. With the little strength I have left I hoist him up into the cart, setting him on top of dirty mop heads and rags.
I see it before I hear it. Red lights begin to flash around the building, then the sirens begin to wail. The security guard is definitely no longer asleep. I get a good grip of the cart handles and begin to push him down the hallway with unrelenting fervor.
I can hear footsteps gaining on us as I reach the same exterior door that I came in through. I launch him out, and watch as the cart goes tumbling onto the forest floor. Great. Maybe that will wake him up. The guards are even closer now, a floor above me. Flood lights shine around on the outside. I push him back into the cart, and gun it through the forest with a speed that rivals Usain Bolt.
Once I reach the clearing where I parked my car, about ten minutes later, I can just now make out the glimmer of flashlights in the distance. This was a huge forest. They had no idea where I could be. I go ahead and begin to load the bastard into the backseat. He mumbles a little, making me jump. I reach my hand down to his forehead. He was definitely warming up. I buckle him in with a seatbelt, and hop in the driver's seat. I accelerate out of the lot, watching as police cars race past me just a road over. This was going to be a long drive.
It took him a four hour drive, plus forty-five minutes in the hotel room to finally wake up.
“…helewooh…” thump thump. “….ooonclee saaamm…”
As he came to, everything was blurry. It reminded him of when he used to mix codeine and benzos.
Slowly, but surely, he begins to focus, making out the silhouette in front of him. A girl, young and lean. She sits across from him on a chair. She snaps and claps in his direction. Leaning in a bit closer, she slaps him in the face. Now that wakes him up.
He jolts forward, easily breaking the pitiful restraints that have him tied to the chair. Now that he thinks about it, he’s sure he’s just broken the chair too.
“Woah, WOAH,” she waves her arms in front of his face, trying to calm him down. “Easy there tiger, I wouldn’t want you blowing up this motel.”
He shakes his head, finally waking up enough to take in his surroundings. It’s a cheap, tacky motel room in god knows where. It reminds him of the one he stayed in when those pansies brought him home from Russia. Wait, those pansies-
“Where the fuck am I?” He looks around again, running over to the windows and peeking out the blinds. He turns around holding his finger up to the young girl in the room with him. “And who the fuck are you?”
She walks towards him slowly. He takes her in. She’s young, definitely young. Pretty, to say the least, but that’s the last thing he can think about right now. Her shorts and shirt are tiny and much too tight for a girl her age. Again, he thinks of the past. Has all modesty been thrown out the window? Not that he’s complaining, really.
“Okay, first of all, I saved you, you should be worshiping the ground I walk on.”
“I don’t even know who you are little girl.” He recoils. “Wait,” He looks her up and down. “You’re not some unclaimed child of mine, are you?”
“Oh, Jesus Christ.” She says, rubbing her hands down her face.
He walks forward, getting into her face. “So ya don’t know me, and you expect me to believe you got me out just out of the kindness of your heart?”
“Yes.” She says simply.
He nods, going back over to the window, looking outside again.
“Where are we?”
“Pennsylvania.”
“They got any beaners here?”
“I’m sorry?”
“Any beaners. I need to cross the border. Get out of here as soon as possible before these fuckin’ gay lovin’ commies try and throw me back into the ice again.”
“I’ll get you across the border, no problem. I don’t need any help either. Anywhere you want I’ll get you there.”
He glares at her, squinting. Looking her up and down. Hey, maybe she does look pretty good. He begins to walk around the room, searching for any hidden cameras, any microphones.
“You wearing a wire?”
“No one followed us down here.”
“That wasn’t my question.”
“No, I’m not wearing a wire.”
He gets back into her face. Towering over her. She shows no sign of fear. Naive, he thinks. She can feel his breath on her skin now.
“What’s the catch?”
She smiles up at him, crumbling under his intense gaze. She feels for the back of the chair behind her then sits down.
“Have a seat.”
“No thanks, been layin’ a lot recently. What’s the fuckin' catch, sweetheart?”
“Okay,” She sighs. “There is a catch, you're right.”
He gets angry now. His chest visibly rising and falling. It begins to glow. Okay, now she’s getting nervous.
“Hear me out please,” she begs, throwing her hands up in the air. “I’m trying to get revenge on Vought.”
“Get in line, little girl.”
“I’m a supe. Please, please hear me out.”
“Too late.”
Okay, she’s angry now. Looking around the room she sees her keychain. It has one of those pull-able self defense devices. She reaches over to grab it.
“If you don’t calm down, if you don’t help me, I’m going to pull this tab, and it will notify every police department, every agent in a 300 mile radius.” She’s bluffing, of course. But he’d surely believe it. Hell, they have fuckin' lesbians plastered on billboards these days. Anything is possible.
“You’re bluffing.” He says smiling.
“Am I?” She asks, smiling back.
He stares at her. He says nothing. She goes to pull the pin out of the device.
“Wait,” he says. “Look, I’m old, I’m tired, and I just want to go fuck off to Costa Rica, and live my life not frozen in ice. If you want revenge on Vought, honey, by all means go for it. Girl power and all that shit. But there are plenty of other supes out there willing to help.”
She sighs, looking up at him with heavy eyelids. He smiles down at her now. She’s much prettier when she’s not being fuckin' hysterical.
“Your loss.” She says, shrugging, pulling the cap off of the safety device. It immediately begins to flash and scream. Sending her far away from it, gripping her ears in pain. Sending him flying to the floor trying to put the pin back in.
“Why the fuck did you do that?” He yells, his hands shaking as he tries to find a way to silence the device. She doesn’t answer, just shoving herself into a corner with her hands over her ears. “Did you hear me, nutcase? How the fuck do you stop this thing!”
He throws it onto the ground now, beginning to stomp on it. He ends up with his foot halfway through the floor. All is quiet.
He looks over at her shoved into the corner. She slowly moves her hands from her ears. He’s angrier now, stomping over to her.
“How long until these people find me?”
What? She thinks to herself. Oh yes, the bluff.
“30 minutes. We might as well leave now, and keep driving until we get to the safe house.” Welp, there goes 50$ for the room rental. “And there’s more where that came from, so don’t do anything fuckin' crazy.”
“I won’t as long as you aren’t acting like a fuckin' lunatic.”
“So then it’s a deal?”
“No deal.”
“I’m sorry?”
“I said, no deal. You can take me to this safe house and we can discuss further. That’s all I’m agreeing to. You take that, or I can just smash your head in along with the rest of your little devices.”
She rubs her chin. Walking over into the corner and picking up her duffle bag.
“Yeah, let’s hold out on the latter. Y’know, collateral land all that.”
“It really is that easy, you know? All it would take is just a snap of that spine and you’d be shut up for good.”
Her skin crawls at this. He is right. The collateral is shit. He has every right to bash her brains in and leave with no trace. What the hell can she do about it?
Unless.
“Look, Captain America, there is something else that could pique your interest.”
“Trust me, there isn’t much.” He looks around the room one last time before they go out the door. “Say, you wouldn’t happen to have any reefer?”
She closes the door just as they’ve opened it. She leans into him. This is cruel, she thinks. This is wrong. And hell, he’d have every right to kill her after they get the job done. And maybe that would be the best thing to do. Quick and easy.
“Look, if you help me do this, I can show you to your children. To your family.” Yup, she’s rotting in hell. “I used to work for Vought. I know of their location.”
His gaze softens. Fuck, she thinks.
“This is some sick fuckin' joke?”
“No,” She coos, placing a sweaty palm on his shoulder. He flinches. “No, of course not. And if you help me, you can take all of them down to Costa Rica with you.”
He looks at her with question, with curiosity. He doesn’t think he can trust this girl, but hell, she did just save his life.
A family? His family? People who are ready to welcome him with open arms. His own children who’d view him as a hero, as a good father. People he could make proud. Hopefully they wouldn’t be fuckin’ pussies like Homelander. What a waste, he thinks.
She bounces back and forth on her feet. He nods, not looking at her.
“Tell me what you need in the car. And we’re stopping for alcohol and cigarettes.”
“Deal.” She says with a guilty smile, watching as he walks his way downstairs.
Masterlist | Episode 3 | Taglist
Taglist:
@sl33pylilbunny @lanassmarty @sydneyyyya @1-800shootmeplease @muhahaha303
#soldier boy the boys#soldier boy fanfic#soldier boy#soldier boy x reader#soldier boy smut#soldier boy imagine#soldier boy oneshot#homelander#homelander smut#homelander x reader#the boys fanfic#the boys#jensen ackles x reader#jensen ackles
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love this podcast so much! this is probably a bit of a nuts ask but i just wanted to let you guys know that you've genuinely helped me in real life- I was approached by two Mormon missionaries today (i live in the UK so it was Unexpected to say the least) and for the entirety of the conversation I was remembering how you mentioned on one of your episodes (99% sure it was you guys) about how being on missionary is most Mormons' first experience of the wider world so you should do your best to be polite etc. all the context you gave genuinely helped me navigate the conversation so much lmao, you guys are entertaining AND educational 10/10
oh wow!! daaaamn, good for you!
and yeah, that sounds like something we would say. I (G) can't seem to dig up receipts right now but the tl;dr is that oftentimes, door-to-door evangelism of the kind mormon missionaries and jehovah's witnesses engage in is less effective at converting people, but highly effective at reinforcing to the group's members that all outsiders are Cruel And Sinful and therefore you should never leave The Church because that's where the only good and kind people are.
but also, like, 90% of the time the reason I (G) try to be kind to mormon missionaries is because they're like 20 and have never been allowed the simple joy of a macchiato (but must try to fill that void with vile concoctions of dr pepper, gummy worms, and half 'n half, apparently.)
also, let the record show that "being kind" does not mean showing any interest whatsoever in converting to mormonism, or leading them on to that effect! but it costs $0 to wish them a nice day and be a shining example of how wearing spaghetti straps does not in fact lead to sacrificing live goats to satan.
anyway. we're proud of you, anon! glad you like the ole podcast 🤠
—G
yeah this is awesome to hear!! and even to add onto this, that sort of advice is pretty good to utilize just in general when talking to people from these ultra-conservative, super-sheltered (and yes, usually religious) upbringings. like G said, you don't need to lie to them and make them believe that "oh yeah totally i'm absolutely going to see you this sunday and I sure will consider changing the entirety of my belief system/morals!" but, yknow, just be kind. it's good to do even for Normal Regular people you see on the street. but this isn't sesame street so I won't start that brand of schoolyard lecture.
semi-related, but a little tangential: my super-strict catholic high school used to invite mormon missionaries to come and 'speak with' specific religious classes (usually the TrulyCatholic bitches took these) every year. and every year we heard about how "lol the ridiculous mormons keep coming and being nice to us to try and talk about their religion as if we're EVER going to change our minds and believe in their FAKE and WRONG version of christianity?? isn't it so stupid that they're so patient and kind to us even as sister catherine anne stands back and lets us bully—I mean, debate these guys? anyways I wonder when the morons—I mean, mormons, will stop coming back. 😌💅"
and to this day I still think about those guys! because I never understood their willingness to come back every year, and I could not fathom why they were consistently so nice. learning more about mormonism through this podcast has really helped my ex-catholic ass look at the outside world and be like "oh, we were the assholes. I mean, I knew that already, but shit." and tbh i'm sure they honestly loved coming to my school, because nothing will solidify your own stance/opinion on a group of 'outsiders' than a mob of privileged ravenous catholic teenagers. anyways, let that be a refrain for you on your new day-to-day: don't be like the catholics, be kind. amen 🙏
—shannon
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Highlight Reels
Adventures in house-sitting, Trevor and Jamie
A big responsibility. When Ryan Getzlaf asked the boys to watch his house while he was gone for the month, both promised to keep it in tip top shape. Getzy was really throwing the boys a bone. A chance for a bulk of responsibility.
What could go wrong with a coop full of chickens, one cat, two dogs, and some goats?
Oh it all went wrong.
The first week was the best. The animals got fed, places to sleep were set up, Jamie and Trevor got used to the house.
The second week?
It was Jamie’s morning to feed the goats and chickens when he was shaking Trevor awake at 5:00 am.
“There’s only three!”
They lost a goat. Trevor slinked out of bed and helped Jamie look for it, before they ended up in the woods. They found it an hour later, curled up sleeping behind a tree.
Day two of week two, Trevor had to yell for Jamie when he accidentally let all of the chickens out of the coop.
They were nursing small patches of broken skin for a good half an hour after. Turns out, the chickens did not like being grabbed to be put back.
A few days of peace went by. Then madness.
Mini sticks inside was a horrible idea. Jamie would claim Trevor talked him into it.
Getzlaf called to check in on them two minutes after they broke the tv.. like he had a sixth sense.
His wife had to convince him not to fly home when he saw the look on Jamie’s face. He’d never seen Jamie cry before, but he was pretty sure those were the oncoming tears of intimidation and fear for one’s life.
Trevor and Jamie waited a while for the local supermarket to have the right size tv to replace it. Neither were thrilled to pay what they did. But it was better than facing their Captain’s wrath.
Then, Trevor learned the reason why you don’t feed dogs every time you eat people food. Getzlaf had said it was fine to give them a piece of meat here and there, but Trevor got carried away.
The dog was sick for a few days, and when the dog threw up, Jamie had to leave the room. Trevor learned quickly, that Drysdale could not stand seeing anybody or anything getting sick. Nor would he help clean it, and Trevor preferred it that way.
Then came the unfortunate destruction of the fridge. It wasn’t the boys’ fault, really. The fridge just decided it was done. But there was a shit ton of food in it.
“Hey uh.. Trev? The fridge isn’t supposed to be warm right?”
Of course they found out halfway through the day. On the hottest day that summer.
They still haven’t told anybody what they did with all that food. But they decided to just leave the fridge until the big man got back. Neither wanted to burden him with the matter.
The icing on the cake though? Had been the day they broke a window.
Trevor and Jamie had gone outside to play hockey in the driveway, and they thought nothing of putting the net out beneath the window. Which was usually where Getzlaf’s kids put it. But they were kids.
Trevor said Jamie broke the window. Jamie said Trevor did it.
Getzy was pissed all the same when he got the call. The face time call.
“Hey, bud! How’s it going?” Getzlaf could tell by the sound in Trevor’s voice that something was off. And when he caught a glimpse of Jamie in the background, paler than usual and stiff as a board. He knew something had gone wrong.
“What the hell did you do?”
“I hope you didn’t like your living room window too much…”
After that, Getzlaf had called somebody else to take over for the duration of his time away.
And Jamie and Trevor certainly never heard the end of the experience.
Especially when Getzlaf came back to discover his fridge was empty and broken too.
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Hello and welcome to my TEDTalk, once again about Naomi Novik’s Spinning Silver, about how Stepon is Autistic. I have textual evidence to support this claim, as well as a peer diagnosis from the Group Chat:
In Stepon’s first POV in chapter 11, the first two paragraphs (page 156, US hardback edition):
“I like goats because I know what they will do. If I leave the pen open, or there is a loose post, they will get out and run away…I can understand goats. I tried to understand Da, because I thought if I did, hew would hit me less, but I didn’t ever manage it, and for a long time I didn’t understand Wanda, because she was always telling me to go away, but she would make me food along with everyone else and give me clothing sometimes. Sergey was kind to me most of the time, but sometimes he wasn’t, and I didn’t know why about that, either.”
He doesn’t get social stuff! He gets the animals more than people because animals are predictable and make sense to him. His Da is always angry and abusive and nothing changes that. Wanda resents having to take care of him and resents loving him but does anyway and he doesn’t get it. Sergey is nicer but not always and tells Stepon the truth about their Mama but Stepon doesn’t get why sometimes Sergey is short tempered with him. He gets why the goats do what they do. There isn’t a question there, no difficult waters to navigate.
In Stepon’s chapter 13 POV (page 205, US hardback edition):
“Someone else had lived in the house also, I remembered Wanda talking about them, but I couldn’t remember their name. It made me feel strange trying to remember when the name didn’t come, because names always came when I wanted them to. […] If I found them then I could just have asked what their name was and I would stop feeling strange.”
My boy Stepon never forgets a name! He knows the names of everyone he’s ever met or heard of and it’s weird and bothers him when he can’t.
Also chapter 13, (page 205-206):
“It was the day after market day in the fourth week of the month, so that meant Wanda was going to collect from the two villages down the cart-track going southeast from town and the names to collect from were Rybernik, Hurol, Gnadys, Provna, Tsumil, and Dvuri. I said the names over to myself on the way because they made a nice song in my head. When I got there I knocked on all the doors I saw and asked their name and if they said one of those names then I held out the basket…Then I brought the basket to Panova Mandelstam and told her, “I am not too younger after all.” She looked in the basket and then she was very upset. I didn’t know why, but then Panov Mandelstam put his hand on my shoulder very gently and said, “Stepon we should have explained. It is very important not to make any mistakes when collecting, and to keep a careful account. Do you think if you try very hard you can remember and tell us exactly where you went, and who gave you each thing?”
“Yes,” I said. “This is the day of the month Wanda goes to Rybernik, Hurol, Gnadys, Provna, Tsumil, and Dvuri,” and then I pointed to each thing and told him who gave it to me. I thought Panova Mandelstam was still unhappy afterwards, but she gave me some dumplings with a thick sauce with carrots and potatoes and real chicken meat in it, and a cup of tea with two big spoons of honey, so I must have been wrong.”
The MEMORY on this kid!! He knows his sister’s schedule by heart and knows what’s okay to accept for payment! He makes little songs out of what he needs to remember! Again he’s not sure how to understand the emotions of the people around him, misinterpreting Panova Mandelstam’s upset at him going out to work for them and putting himself in harm’s way as being upset with him for maybe messing up the accounts.
Stepon’s chapter 14 POV (page 231, US hardback edition):
“..One of them yelled “How does it feel to have killed your own father?”
They ran away into the trees and didn’t wait for an answer but I thought about it the rest of the way. I wasn’t sure if I had killed my father, because I had only wanted him to not hit Wanda with the poker; I hadn’t wanted him to fall over me. But he had fallen over me and that was part of why he was dead, so maybe it didn’t matter that I hadn’t wanted it. I didn’t know.
I did know that it felt good ot be living with Panov and Panova Mandelstam. I had stopped feeling hungry even a little bit. But anytime I thought about Sergey and Wanda, even if I was sitting at the table, I felt like I had swallowed stones instead of food.”
I’ve decided to leave out the rest of Stepon’s thoughts about what would be better, if Sergey and Wanda were with him and the Mandelstams or not for the sake of space, but it continues to prove the point I want to make. He’s analytical! This isn’t a kid who can lie to himself even for the sake of comfort. He could give himself the scant distance from his father’s death that “I didn’t want him to die” could buy him, but he knows he can’t. He was there, his father tripped over him, and his brother and sister are gone now. He doesn’t know if he will see them again, and this is still likely the best outcome because he isn’t hungry and frightened and cold anymore. But he still wants his brother and sister and would rather be cold and alone in the woods looking for them than “live with the stones in [his] stomach.”
Continuing Chapter 14, this time page 232-233:
“..but he said it too kindly, the way you say nice things to a goat when you are trying to get it to come so you can tie it up. It did not mean he wanted to hurt me. He only wanted to keep me in a good safe warm place so I wouldn’t die in the snow somewhere. But if I stayed in this place, I would never see Wanda and Sergey again… “Sergey and Wanda were going to go to Vysnia. They wanted to ask someone for work.” I had to think about it because he was someone’s grandfather, and I didn’t know who the someone was, which was strange. But I did know the grandfather’s name. “Panov Moshel.”
This time I had to cut it off because if I include Panova Mandelstam realizing Miryem is gone I’ll make this post about that instead. But! Stepon is coming in again with his goat analogies, which I love. He’s picked up some great ways to tell how people are feeling but he’s steadfast, and again with his excellent memory. He can’t remember Miryem right now, but he can remember he grandfather’s name, even though he overheard that when Wanda and Sergey were just talking as he collected the nut from their Mama’s tree. He still remembers!
Stepon’s POV in chapter 15 (page 254):
“Are you warm enough Stepon?” Panova Mandelstam asked me. I said I was because however warm I was, that had to be warm enough, because there was nothing to do about it if I wasn’t.”
This is short but I really like the directness he has here. He is cold, as he says in the next couple of lines. But Stepon knows that nothing is capable of making him warmer, even in the best place in the sleigh, so he says he’s warm enough.
Again in chapter 15 (page 256):
“Then he straightened and looked at Algis. Algis was standing next to the back of the sleigh. His head was hanging. He said, “I didn’t fill the bucket.” He meant the grain bucket. So there was no food for the horses.
Panov Mandelstam didn’t say anything for a minute. The silence felt very long. Finally he said, “It is lucky this is a late snow. There will still be some fresh growth under. We must dig and get them some grass and whatever else we can find for them to eat.”
He was still kind, but I thought that he had not felt kind, and that was why he had been quiet. I thought that meant he must be very worried. So then I was very worried.”
Analytical! As always! Stepon is learning how to distinguish emotions, and he’s getting his queues from those around him. He knows that it’s bad for the horses to not have food, but he’s not worried until he realizes that Panov Mandelstam is. Stepon also spends the rest of the chapter making sure to remember how no one else would have forgotten the grain bucket. I don’t think that actually plays into him being autistic, but it’s very funny to me. Wanda would have remembered to fill the grain bucket, Algis.
I don’t have any examples that jump out to me from Chapter 16, but I want to note that I love how aware Stepon is of how other people are feeling. Does he understand why? Not always. But he knows Wanda is scared when she realizes the mattress cover is big enough.
Stepon’s POV in chapter 19 (pages 334-335):
“Wanda and Sergey went downstairs to help with the wedding. “Will you come, Stepon?” Sergey asked me, but I shivered, remembering all those people crammed together, in the rooms and in the streets, more people than I knew there to be in the whole world. “No, no no,” and they didn’t make me, but they went, and after a while the sun started to go down, and I started to not like being alone in the room…I pulled my head back inside, but the house was getting so loud and full of people that I heard some of that same noise even when I closed the window. It came up through the fireplace and under the door. It got louder and louder and then music started playing. It was loud music, and people were dancing to it. I felt it in my feet not just in my ears. I sat on the bed and covered me ears and I still felt it coming up all the way through the house. It kept going on and on. It was all the way dark outside and I was really afraid now because why would Wanda and Sergey stay down in all that noise unless something bad made them. I had my face pressed up against my knees and my arms over my head, and then there was a knock on the door. I didn’t say to come in because I would have had to take my arms from over my head, but Panova Mandelstam came inside anyway. “Stepon, are you all right?” she said. She meant it but she didn’t really mean it, I could tell. She was thinking about something else. But when I didn’t say anything back and didn’t pick my head up, she started to really mean it, and then she went and got the candle she had left on the table for us and she took out a couple of big lumps of wac from it and blew on them until they weren’t hot, and she said, “Here, Stepon, put the wax in your ears.”
I thought I would try. I took my hand away for just a little bit and took the wax. It was still warm and soft. I pushed it inot my ears and it squished into the little spots and then it stopped being so warm and the noise stopped being so loud on that side. I could still feel it in my body but I couldn’t feel it so much. So then I was very glad and I took the other lump of wax and that helped too.”
Sensory overload my beloathed. Stepon, buddy, you are me and I am you. Why WOULD they be around all of those people and all of that noise? My boy would have LOVED noise cancelling headphones if they existed in this world. This scene really resonated with me the first time I read Spinning Silver, to the point that I had to read it twice. I have been here before except no one gave me anything to dull the noise.
Stepon’s POV chapter 21 (page 393-394):
“I did not mind taking them off because it was warm, and I was sitting in a cart anyway. I was glad to be leaving that terrible city. It was even worse than before. The streets were all crowded with people everywhere because now there was no snow and they wanted to be outside and they all wanted to talk at the same time and make noise. I lay down in the bottom of the cart next to the sacks that were pretending to be Miryem and I tried to pretend to be a sack myself, but I wasn’t a sack…Panov Mandelstam got down to pay the man at the gate some money, because that city was such a terrible place we had to pay to be let out.”
He hates this place! He wants his quiet little house back, thank you and goodbye. He’d prefer to have his whole family with him, but any leaving back to his safe, quiet place is best. This city is too crowded and too noisy and his life would be easier if he was a sack that couldn’t hear but he’s not so he’s just gonna lay there.
That’s the end of his POV chapters and I don’t wanna use evidence from any of the other characters POV’s because that can very too much and also I’m not currently rereading it was easiest to just go back to passages I’d already marked because I’ve been thinking of this for a while. Anyway! Stepon is autistic, thank you for reading my roughly 2400 words so far, I will not be taking challenges to this. Seriously if you try being mean about this I’m gonna block you.
#spinning silver#stepon#naomi novik#the first time i read this Stepon's first POV in chapter 11 knocked me into lower orbit with recognition
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The two (2) singular times in all of officially recorded history that Avaric was not Completely Awful, but in fact showed signs of Caring About Another Person:
“‘Something has happened to you,’ said Avaric. ‘I’m not that dull. What’s wrong?’
‘Nothing’s wrong,’ said Boq.
‘Tell me to mind my own business, tell me to go fuck myself, to piss off, go on, say it, but don’t tell me nothing’s wrong. For you’re not that good a liar, and I’m not that stupid. Even for a dissipated Gillikinese of decaying nobility.’ His expression was soft…” (94)
“Boq fell back against the wall, and Avaric, who had never seen the Goat before, held Boq’s hands tightly with one hand and covered his own face with the other.” (128)
Now I’m not saying for certain that Avaric like-liked Boq, but I think it’s fairly possible he did. Boq seems to be the only person in existence that Avaric is actually nice to. Surely there is some reason for this, and that reason could be romantic love. Avaric never acted on it in the slightest, and Boq was completely oblivious, and nothing ever came of it.
On the rare occasion he allows himself to reminisce on his past with any degree of seriousness, Avaric wonders what might have happened, what kind of person he could have been if he had acted differently all those years ago at Shiz. He’ll laugh and brush it off with a sneer, but in a life of loose morals and cruel actions, that lost chance is quite possibly the only thing he regrets.
He tells himself he’s happiest caring for no one but himself and nothing but his own entertainment. He tells himself he wouldn’t give up his power and grandeur for anything so sentimental as love. He has a large painting of a Munchkinland field and farmhouse hanging in his office.
Y’know, for someone who claims not to be a shipper, I do a surprising amount of it unprompted. Imagine though:
#wicked#wicked novel#boq bfeeson#wicked avaric#…avaroq?#does this ship even exist yet?#idk I guess it does now#someone will die (of fun!)#I don’t think I actually ship them#but Avaric’s maybe-crush informs the way I write his interactions with Boq
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Bullet train fic recs
This list will include all ratings and tags, so read at your own discretion! :)
scars like train tracks on his arms by arbor112 - Rated M
Suckerpunch by The_sluttiest_ace_on_the_block - Rated T
He keeps dreaming about him. He doesn't want to, of course- doesn’t want to see the face of the man he murdered, brilliant blue eyes seared into his brain.
It’s been a long time since the incident. He doesn't call it the incident- tries not to think about it, which proves difficult, given his visitor who seems to never leave him alone.
He tries breathing exercises. He tries meditation. He tries running, and he tries yoga (with goats and without.). He tries whiskey, he tries copious amounts of weed. Nothing works. He keeps seeing Tangerine.
Nowhere else to go by everythingremainsconnected - Rated M
Tangerine gets shot on a job. It’s not bad by their standards, barely a nick across his ribs, and sure, it bleeds, but not dangerously so. It’s the hitman equivalent of accidentally cutting your finger when you’re chopping vegetables.
But still: Ladybug fucking loses it.
Ladybug's quiet evening is disturbed by a ghost- scratch that, by a man who isn't actually as dead as previously thought, but the stab wound in Tangerine's side could change everything…
Breathe by bullettrainbitch (ReddNarnia) - Rated T
Ladybug and Tangerine get locked in the snack car.
The Ghost of You by maverickkkkkkk - Not Rated
3 months after the events of the bullet train and Ladybug is taking some much needed time off. Until he isn't, because there's someone in his house who isn't supposed to be there, because they're supposed to be dead, and suddenly everything is getting a LOT more complicated.
All I Need is Five Minutes by CabinOnAShore - Rated T
"Ladybug?" Maria answered.
"Oh, thank god, Maria, Maria, please." Ladybug whimpered into the phone. He felt tears welling in his eyes and he roughly scrubbed them away with the back of his hand.
"Breathe, Ladybug," Maria reminded him. "You're fine."
"I'm obviously not fine if I'm seeing a ghost standing ten feet away from me," he hissed into the phone. Said ghost glowered at him.
"I'm not a fuckin' ghost," said Tangerine's ghost.
Five Times Tangerine Fainted (and the One Time He Didn’t) by yourguardianangel - Rated E
You Would Hate To Be My Eurydice by yourguardianangel - Rated E
When Ladybug stopped on that rural Japanese hillside to fish an all-too-familiar corpse from a cherry blossom tree, the last thing he expected was for it to surge to life and start calling him a twat.
Thus began a rather unlikely alliance between a bug and two fruits.
…
Post-canon fix-it. Tangbug.
Fate, trains and automobiles by everythingremainsconnected - Rated M
It’s been two months since the Shinkansen Incident and the criminal underbelly of the entirety of Japan is in chaos. The White Death’s empire has crumbled in the power vacuum, and splinter factions are cannibalising each other to establish whatever territory and power they can.
Ladybug, plagued by guilt and sleepless nights, accepts an extraction job for an unknown captive from one such splinter faction’s holdouts. Low stakes, easy work, with a specific request for stealth over violence. Perfect for him.
Of course, things never go quite to plan for Ladybug, and rules are broken when he finds out the identity of the captive in question.
Ladybug is getting back in the game after that whole thing in Japan. It's a nice easy courier job, right?
Wrong.
Meanwhile, Tangerine's first day back on the job is similarly annoying and riddled with problems... Is it one big coincidence or does fate have a really twisted sense of humour?
The Backup by Deaf_Dog - Rated G
Lemon loses his sticker sheet.
Is there a pilot in here? by Lullabyebye - Rated T
Tangerine and Lemon are in a tricky situation when they realize neither of them can fly a plane.
Almost Made It by bzdhzm - Rated G
Tangerine and Lemon try to complete a mission that goes side ways.
A Flawless Attempt At Vengeance by The_sluttiest_ace_on_the_block - Rated T
It is roughly three o’clock in the morning when Ladybug is awoken by the loud sound of crunching wood and the heavy thunk of what is either wood or, given Ladybug’s truly atrocious luck, possibly a body.
This is shitty. Firstly, tonight is the first good night of sleep that Ladybug has gotten in a while, one of the first nights without a nightmare, insomnia, or something of the sort since Kyoto. It’s been a rough couple months to say the least, and now Ladybug is about 99% sure that his house is being broken into. Who does this intruder think they are to disturb his already hopelessly abused REM cycle?
Ladybug sighs, throws off 30 pounds of weighted blanket, considers grabbing a weapon, decides against it, goes to walk out into the main room, and is promptly crashed into by no less than 180 pounds of Tangerine.
Breakfast is the Most Important Meal of the Day by Deaf_Dog - Rated T
When one twin doesn't eat regular meals, the other has to be prepared.
Diesel by Lullabyebye - Rated G
Tangerine and Lemon get stuck in an elevator.
Diamond in a Haystack by The_sluttiest_ace_on_the_block - Rated T
In which Tangerine runs into Ladybug whilst attempting to steal a diamond. They have a chat.
Hostile Work Environment by berlincorpography - Rated T
“Do you not proofread– sorry, sorry for shouting, I know it’s not helping to de-escalate the situation. But how the hell do you put out a job ad saying you need an HR assassin instead of an assistant?”
#bullet train#ladybug bullet train#tangerine bullet train#lemon bullet train#lemon and tangerine#maria beetle#tangbug#bullet train fic recs#veryace recs#fanfic recs#ao3 fic recs#ao3
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18 and 29 for writer asks :D!!
18. What's one of your fav lines you've written for a fic?
Oh mannnn good question. Probably this one from A Vexing Situation: "He was grinning too, because Scar was, and because sometimes the only thing you can do in the face of something scary is bare your teeth at it."
29. Share a bit from a fic you’ll never post OR from a scene that was cut from an already posted fic. (If you don’t have either, just share a random fic idea you have that you don’t plan on getting to.)
Oooo you're making me rifle through a lot of things. I have a lot of cut fics and pieces.
Okay! Found a good one. In Monsters Splitting Hairs, the vex [Cub and Scar] were originally going to be a lot pushier for their introduction. Here's the original I wrote, that I wound up cutting because I thought it made them too personable. Putting it under the cut since it's long!
Fic Ask Meme
The birds overhead suddenly scattered as a pair of dark shapes swooped down among them. One of the trees lining the path swayed. Cub landed in the highest branches, jagged wings flailing for balance. Scar circled the tree he’d landed in before coming to a rest on the ground, descending only just gracefully enough to not crash - though he winced and shook out his foot like he’d landed on it wrong. Ren grabbed Beaufort’s harness and stopped them.
“Hello hello! Good morning!” Scar called brightly, grin ever-present, ambling over to them with all the neighborly charm he could muster - which would have been a heart-warming amount, if his wide grin weren’t lined with jagged teeth. Ren thought it would be a good idea to greet him back, but his throat was suddenly dry, and he was absolutely sure if he opened his mouth to speak nothing would come out. He just gripped Beaufort’s harness in a white-knuckled fist and focused on breathing, his pulse spiking and hammering in his ears.
“U-uhm, good morning Scar,” Gem called, edging a little closer to Beaufort and Ren, like she could hide against the two of them. The goat lowered its head and pawed a foot against the ground nervously, “You guys are pretty far from town! What’s brought you to our neck of the woods?”
“Oh! Well it’s a beautiful morning,” Scar beamed, arms and wings outstretched. He gave a spin, as though he could embrace the sunlight sweeping across the path, “And I thought, you know, Ren took a pretty big fall yesterday! Maybe we outta go pay him a visit and make sure he’s doing okay! Especially since he's going out into the wilderness where who-knows-what could try to eat him! So how about it, my friend?”
Scar wrapped an arm around Ren’s shoulders, and Ren yelped at the sudden movement. Ren’s mind was not nearly as present as he needed it to be, suddenly fixated on the fact that a vex was touching him, those sharp teeth and claws perilously close to him. He thought Scar smelled like winter, like ice in the air, and he wondered if that’s what vex smelled like, or if that was just Scar. He thought Scar felt cold, which might also be a vex thing, or maybe flying just left the skin colder? He couldn’t tell, all he knew was it was touching him, and uncomfortable, and he could hear his pulse hammering in his ears, and just past it, Scar talking again.
“I mean, you sure look hale and healthy, but it’s worth checking in on, right?” Scar was walking with him, leading him down the road a few steps. Ren couldn’t remember when he let go of the harness. Scar patted his chest with the arm that wasn’t wrapped around his neck, blue eyes swirling like whirlpools, “Gotta make sure Doc’s crew is doing well, yes we do! Speaking of, where is he? You didn’t leave him all by himself at the farm did you?”
All by himself. That sounded like a threat. Was it supposed to be? That sounded like a vex thing, threatening people by stating the obvious, like pointing out a mistake. Ren opened his mouth to say something and only managed a couple stuttered syllables. Scar was still smiling at him, but not in the expectant way of someone trying to hold a conversation.
“I - I mean - he - he’s got Vigenere with him,” Ren finally managed to strangle out, “So, you know - he’s fine.”
“The goat?” Scar flashed him a smirk that would have been amused on anyone without spinning eyes or knifing teeth. He laughed, a close-lipped, piping noise that was a bit too loud to be a giggle, “What’s a goat gonna do? But we weren’t talking about him, we were talking about you.”
“Me?”
“Yes you, who else?” Scar finally slipped his arm out from around his shoulder and turned to face him head-on, “The fall off the cart, remember? Jeez, maybe you hit your head a little harder than I thought you did - I’m surprised you didn’t throw out your back over a fall like that! And you got right back up like a trooper! You’re sure made of sturdy stuff, huh?”
“I mean yeah, I guess?” Ren was starting to come to his senses, or at the very least the initial shock wave of panic was starting to wear off, “I - can I help you, gentlemen?”
Cub landed on the ground then, chuckling, “Don’t mind Scar. He just likes to talk.”
“Excuse you! I’m the best at talking, thank you very much. I think Ren was enjoying the conversation, weren’t you Ren?”
“I-”
Cub sunk a hand into his pocket and sidled up to Beaufort, holding his other hand out for the goat to sniff. Then he scratched the top of the goat’s head, easing it into his presence a bit, “We’re just here to escort you out of the valley.”
Gem laughed a little too loudly, “Oh, we really don’t need-”
“Nonsense! We insist,” Scar crowed brightly, walking backwards up the path and motioning for them to follow. Ren was surprised he didn't trip over his own feet, “Like I said! Gotta make sure Doc’s crew stays safe, right? What with how pleasant you folks are. Very neighborly! Right Cub?”
“Right, neighborly,” Cub gave Ren a closed-mouth smile, and it was at least a little less unsettling than Scar’s. The intentionality of it wasn’t lost on him though.
“You keep, uh, saying that,” Gem edged closer to Ren and they began walking hesitantly up the road again, Cub leading Beaufort for them with an easy smile, “The keeping us safe thing. Which we really do appreciate but uh - is there something wrong?”
“Wrong? Nothing’s wrong! What would make you think that?” Scar laughed, and Ren realized he sounded… nervous? Or maybe like he was lying. Or maybe both.
“Did Doc not tell you guys about the creature sightings?” Cub cut in cooly, “We assumed he’d pass the word around.”
“Well… we’ve been a little busy getting packed for the trip,” Gem pointed out, “And we kinda figured whatever it was would be blown over by the time we got back. The full moon’s coming up you know - monsters get kinda weird around then. But they’re always back to normal afterwards.”
“We don’t think the moon is part of it,” Cub said, taking a moment to pat Beauford’s neck. The movement seemed cautious. Ren wondered if he’d ever touched a goat before, “I mean, the moon tends to bring out shapeshifters and the like, and whatever this is, it’s been in a weird shape to begin with.”
“A weird shape with wings, right?” Ren asked, “Sounds like another vex to me, my dudes.”
“We would know if there was another vex around here,” Cub shrugged, and he nodded up to Scar, who was walking far ahead of them by now, marveling at the woodlands around them like he’d never taken a pleasant morning stroll before. Maybe he hadn’t. Ren didn’t know a lot about the vex, to be quite honest. He had no desire to.
“You guys have like, a vex radar or something?” Ren laughed nervously.
“Something like that,” Cub gave him a smile that was all teeth, “Besides, if it were another vex, we’d see the aftermath before we saw the vex, if you catch my drift.”
“Y-yeah, we’re picking up what you’re putting down, my dude,” Ren stuttered, the wave of panic that had rushed from him earlier slowly creeping its way up his back again. It settled like ice in his chest, and he wondered if that’s why Scar felt so cold. It was just a vex thing, seeping panic everywhere.
“You guys haven’t had any goats go missing, have you?” Cub asked smoothly, like he hadn’t noticed Ren’s stutter, or how closely him and Gem were walking together, still keeping a steady guiding hand on their goat’s harness, “Kids, especially, something a little easier to carry off? Any chickens caught by foxes recently, maybe, when you haven’t seen any fox tracks around?”
Ren’s throat was dry again, so instead of speaking he just shook his head. His mind was starting to pick apart Cub’s sentences again, looking for threats. He couldn’t imagine a vex the size of Cub being able to lift Beauford into the sky, but Cub talked like maybe he could. How strong were vex, really? Doc said they were magic. Doc had a lot to say about vex. Like how sharp their claws were. How messy they could be in action. Ren never saw Scar or Cub carry anything on them other than a bow. Maybe that’s all they needed. Cub didn’t seem to have a bow on him now. That seemed intentional.
“Awesome, that’s awesome,” Cub was saying, his voice still quietly pleasant, intentionally disarming, “Well hey, just keep an eye out, alright? And we’ll keep an eye on you, too, obviously. That’s what we’re here for, after all. We’re here for your protection. You, and all the folks in the valley.”
He winked at them, “But we do play favorites sometimes, to the folks who are kind to us.”
“R-right. Right, thank you,” Ren stammered belatedly, his words tumbling out of him like so many dropped emeralds from a split coin purse, “We uh, we appreciate it, really.”
“Don’t mention it,” Cub let go of Beauford’s harness and slipped his hands back in his pockets. He stretched his wings and said, “Well, I can tell we’re making you a little uncomfortable, so we’ll follow you from a distance, yeah? Just holler if you need anything.”
With one sturdy flap of his jagged wings, Cub lifted off into the sky, catching an updraft and following it into the blue. Scar, still ahead of them by several paces, watched him fly off. He unfolded his own wings, the sunlight highlighting their blue-gray into something closer to purple. It streamed through the holes and tears on the edges of his wings. Ren had to wonder how many of the scrapes and scars were from clumsiness, and how many from violence. There were three conspicuous tears on his left wing that looked like they had to be from the claws of some monster. Scar flapped upwards, swelling towards the sky a bit more awkwardly, but eventually managing to catch the same updraft and go gliding into the blue. Soon the two vex were a pair of dots in the sky, hard to distinguish from any other passing bird.
Ren realized his hands were shaking.
“You know, they really are quite pleasant, aren’t they?” Gem said, a hand on her chest like she was trying to still her own frantic heartbeat. She looked exhausted, and her words were breathless like she’d been running, “I mean, whenever Scar strings three words together everything gets dizzy, and Cub is, honestly, kinda terrifying. But I really think they’re at least trying to be friendly.”
“Well if friendly on vex looks like that,” Ren stammered, running a hand through his hair and pulling up short when he remembered it was tied back in a bun, and the nervous habit would yank it free, “I don’t want to know what unfriendly looks like. You don’t think they’re gonna turn back and hurt Doc, do you?”
“Why would they?”
“They’re vex.”
Gem looked up at the sky, “They like Doc?”
“Scar was talking about Doc being left alone, Gem.”
Gem considered that for a moment. Honestly she thought about it a bit longer than Ren wanted her to, like she had to actively make up her mind on whether she thought the vex were dangerous (they were) and planning on hurting Doc while they were gone (they might). Finally she said, “I think… even if they wanted to hurt Doc, they really couldn’t, because everyone would know it was them. And that breaks the baron’s contract. Which would start another war. And the baron doesn’t like war. And even if they did decide to try something anyway…”
Gem shrugged, “Doc can handle himself. And like you said, he’s got Vigenere.”
“And like Scar said,” Ren pressed, though when Gem started walking, he followed her, “What’s a goat going to do?”
“Any goat? Nothing. Vigenere?” Gem laughed, “I think she’d probably kill a vex to keep Doc safe. Or at least headbutt them really, really hard.”
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Yanking the Cord
“Don’t say a new binary power core-”
“A new binary power core!” Nya’s face lit up as my heart sank to new depths. “I’ll be right back!” She ran off with new exuberance, but it was all in vain.
“Wait, no! Don’t leave!” But she was gone. She was gone, and here I was, stuck in this useless limbo waiting on a piece that obviously wouldn’t fix anything.
“Plate! Snow! Clipboard!”
Zane’s pleas for help did little help soothe my rage at this point. He was part of the problem by now. I could feel my resolve slipping ever further with every second that passed. It wasn’t surprising. I shouldn’t have expected anything better. Every beginner assumes the binary power core is this huge issue point, but they’re very stable apparatuses! It’s NEVER the binary power core! But screw it! Let’s just throw everything at the wall! It’s not like there’s more pressing matters to attend to or anything!
My nerve circuits were burning like nothing else I had ever felt before. Surely it couldn’t be this difficult to accomplish these basic repairs. But there I was, trapped inside an incompetent Zane trying to communicate with an incompetent Nya- and these two are by far the best this mess of a team has to offer. Goodness knows where we’d be if Jay was trying to fix things. How is it possible everything could be this dysfunctional? I am not a ninja, but I’ve been living inside one for several years now, and recon and recovery efforts should not be this complicated to complete! There were actual threats to face off, it had been hours since my father was taken, and it was like everyone had just forgotten! Dr. Borg isn’t just a political figure to use as leverage, if they’ve taken him, they’ll want to use his technology to enhance their own powers, which in this case is the very fabric of time! The longer we wait, the more difficult it gets to locate him! Why isn’t every resource imaginable set on finding him?!
Never before had I ever felt so utterly aware of my own lack of autonomy, of the limitations and barriers of this digital world I had gotten so used to. I was screaming into a wall, reaching out for a rope to grab, a cord to yank, a button to mash, but there was nothing! Useless! Everyone around here is so utterly useless! Here we are, sitting in a room full of some of the most advanced weaponry in the world, and no one’s thought to use it to rescue the invaluable captive that needs our help. It’s so simple! I could do it if I were out there! And I’m not even trained in any of this! Just jump in the mech and…
…and do it.
“I think we’ve got it figured out buddy!” Nya ran in with a binary power core in hand.
“No, I really don’t think we do,” I sighed.
“Synchronous goat!” Zane exclaimed.
“Zane honey, why are you even trying at this point?” My attention was still taken by the large mech sitting next to us. It had an entirely electronic interface, it wouldn’t be difficult to get to it though the cave’s systems. It might be possible to- wait.
“Is that a bimodal binary power core?!” I screamed.
“Wait, I think I might have grabbed the wrong type.” Nya groaned.
“YOU DON’T SAY!” I had to legitimately be losing my mind at this point. No way did she not only come out with a new binary power core, but she came out with one not even compatible with Zane’s systems.
“Just a second! We’ll get you fixed soon!” Nya reassured him as she skipped out of the room again.
“No, no you won’t,” I grumbled.
My mind kept going back to the mech. It couldn’t be that easy, could it? I mean, I hadn’t been physical for a while, but they clearly needed the help. If we were ever going to find my father I had to intervene. They certainly weren’t going to get around to it any time soon. In fact, I’m not entirely sure they wouldn’t all get themselves killed if things continued down this track. I could do it. It was possible. All I had to do was exit into the cave’s systems.
I had found it, the one way I could actually affect things, the one cord left for me to yank; and I had been itching to yank something for a while now.
“Okay! I found the right one!” Nya re-entered the room.
“Synchronous goat,” Zane pressed. “Synchronous goat!”
“I know, we’re so close to getting you fixed!” Nya sighed.
I knew what I had to do. I wasn’t entirely sure I even had a choice at this point. “Best of luck to you, Zane,” I mumbled. If I could have kissed him on the forehead, I would have. This idiot needed a whole heap of luck to get through this mess.
This was insanity. I shouldn’t even be considering this. I shouldn’t have to consider this. I work on a team with highly trained fighters and stealth artists capable of wielding the very elements themselves; I’m an office assistant with only a couple of years of being alive under my belt and an emotion suppressor chip which, if today is any indication, doesn’t exactly seem to be functioning all that well.
But fine.
I’ll do it.
I’m surrounded by incompetence at every turn.
There seems to be no urgency about anything.
No one else is going to do it, so I guess I’ll have to do it myself.
I’ll go rescue my own damn father.
#salty pixal is such a mood#especially pix being salty at nya#ninjago#pixal borg#ninjago pixal#pixal ninjago#nya smith#zane julien#one shot#writing#hands of time
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If you're taking requests - 12 “I’d give up anything for you.” with the plunderbunnies mayhaps? 👉👈
But how far would you go for him?
This was a question that had always plagued her thoughts even since they were just boyfriend and girlfriend. This was a question that had reared its head since that terrible night on Flotsam.
How far would you go for him?
He would do anything for her. Sure,he always had a quip or an answer (even if it wasn’t always the right one) no matter the situation. But if Elaine asked, and she knew it was asking a lot, he could and would do what she asked, even something such as to bite his tongue. He did so for her parents, for delegates, and renowned pirates. She knew he wasn’t exactly a fan of staying quiet, but he would if she asked, and afterwards, he would unleash every single thought to her in a nearly comedic rant just to get it off his chest.
So when Elaine saw his jaw was clenched shut as he stared at the woman, undoubtedly biting every and all words for her, she knew something was wrong. Something different than usual.
And that question popped up again in her head.
How far would you go for him?
“I seriously don’t get it.” The woman said, swirling her drink while having a condescending smirk. “If you ask me, this thing is… beneath you? Then again, I still think no man is good for you.”
The woman making Guybrush the butt of all her jokes was someone Elaine once called a friend in her youth, someone she hadn’t seen in years since even before Guybrush washed ashore. It was naive, but Elaine had hoped that, much like Carla or Odina or even Kate Capsize, they could be friends…
Instead, he was the focus of both being entirely ignored and the ridicule, and Elaine stood in silence.
“I mean, really Elaine. Him?” The woman looked bewildered, poking a sharp finger at his chest. “Look at him, he’s just a pitiful nothing. You deserve someone who can go at your speed, not make you slow down to baby this… this… baby.”
She could hear him taking a sharp breath, giving honestly a weak and obviously strained scoff to try and not let it get to him. Guybrush, who was fighting the words at the tip of his tongue, opted to take a sip from the much needed grog in hopes to drown it.
“He’s not…” Elaine sighed. “You don’t know him–”
“I don’t want to know him. Honestly, I don’t get it. He’s so… ugh. C’mon, Elaine. Ditch him and lets start our own crew. WIthout…” she gestured at Guybrush, crossing her arms and making a disgusted face, “....this total nonsense. Plus, what has he done that you haven’t cleaned up?”
Guybrush is known for many things - his absurd name, his uncanny breathing ability, his skill with the blade, and that famous and frightful wit of his. He is someone who will take the term ‘make lemon out of lemonade’ while in an abandoned carriage with two goats and coconut and somehow make it work. But if there was one thing that he was especially known for, it was his sense of loyalty which he so rarely gave to others. That when push came to shove, he was someone that could be relied on when needed most.
And Elaine couldn’t deny that in the slightest, especially after their ordeals with La Esponja Grande. He went through literal death and life for her.
How far would she go for him?
“I haven’t done such a thing.” Elaine said, trying to ease the overwhelming tension. “Not in years. Guybrush is more than capable and reliable–”
“Hmm… I doubt that.” She looked at Guybrush. “Look at him, he just screams ‘incapable’ and ‘stupid’ and–”
“Okay.” Guybrush slammed his cup down. “Okay! I get it! You don’t like me! Your subtlety is that of a brick through a freakin’ window!”
“Oh good! You’re not ENTIRELY stupid! Now you know you should leave!” She grinned, mocking him.
“Now hold on–” Elaine tried stepping in.
“What is your problem with me?!” Guybrush’s hands were shaking. He was speaking up, true, but he was still holding back a true and proper verbal lashing.
“My problem is that you managed to take the strongest woman in the Caribbean and made her domestic. My problem is that you managed to lower everyone on Melee’s and the entire Caribbean IQ to that of a pastry chef. My problem is YOU.” She stepped closer and jabbed a sharp and aggressive finger against his chest. “Do us all a favor and head back to the Crossroads and this time stay there away from all of us! You are a blight to every pirate!”
Guybrush, for the first time, was at a loss for words. No one, aside from LeChuck himself, ever uttered such a thing to him. And he truly did not know what to say. He momentarily glanced at Elaine and then to the floor, undoubtedly conflicted between speaking up for himself and respecting his wife’s request.
He proved time and time again he would go through the ends of the Earth for her… do something. A small voice shouted in Elaine’s head. Do something! The man had died after risking everything to save both her and the Caribbean and somehow, someway, found the means to come back, still save everyone and even resurrect himself.
Do something!
“That’s enough.” Elaine snapped. “You’ve said your unwanted piece and now you may leave.”
“What?” The woman looked at her stunned. “Elaine, c’mon, you’re not–”
“I am serious. He may not be up to par for you or my bloody parents or anyone else in this world, but he is so much more to me. He is my world, and that, at the end of the day, is all that matters. So unless you apologize, and you and I both know you won’t, you may leave. The door is over there.”
“It was just a joke, relax–”
“That man you’ve belittled for your entertainment is my husband.” She continued, stepping closer to the woman and forcing her to back away from Guybrush. “He had given up so much for me time and time and time again and I’m not about to let that be a one sided gesture. And I was stupid enough to stand up for him sooner. Especially from the likes of you.”
“Why though? Why him?!”
“Because I’d give up anything for him!”
The woman stood stunned, looking what could be assumed as hurt before she pouted, tossed the cup to the ground and stormed out, slamming the door in the process.
Elaine, still fuming herself, quickly looked at Guybrush, seeing him shake just slightly and rushed over, taking a hold of his hand.
“I’m so sorry.” She began to apologize. “I’m so sorry for having you put up with that. It wasn’t right of me–”
“Were you serious?” Guybrush asked, quietly. Softly.
“Huh?”
“About what you said… about… about giving up anything for me…?” He looked at her, stunned himself.
Elaine looked into his blue eyes, realizing what she had said so instinctively, so earnestly. With his hand still held, she gave it a squeeze and pulled it close to her chest. Being with him calmed her, brought her a sense of safety. It was only fair she returned that feeling for him. To have him feel calm and safe.
“Of course I did. Every word. I’d give up anything for you.” She said softly. “I might not… say it often enough, or maybe not show it, but I want you to know that.”
He chuckled a little, pulling her into a hug. “I know… and thank you for still saying it.”
“Do I get to hear that rant of yours?”
“Give me ten minutes and a couple of more drinks.”
Elaine laughed.
#monkey island#the ship that literally sails itself#mickey writes#BOY OH BOY DID I STRUGGLE A LITTLE TO MAKE IT COHERENT BUT HERE WE GO!
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homestuck reread #7: a5a2 part 3
this is so fucked up.
but hey check it out. vriska went goat mode
okayyy merry christmas and happy new year to everyone reading. never too late for a happy new year
look at roseee shes serving so hard rn. but unfortunately she is talking to doc scratch. which is something one should never do. especially if one is a light player he really loves to torment light players for some reason
look at how cool jade looks here i would wear the shit out of this outfit if it wasnt approx. 1 trillion degrees in my location. keep slaying girl
what a thing to say. i know what he is talking about and yet i still barely understood what he meant
yeah WHATEVER . most important character my ass. we dont care . booooo. boo
why is jade sprite so sad shes being such a cry baby. honestly normal jade is based for this. jade sprite is just crying and crying for NO REASON. what is even the problem!!!!!
very fucking interesting indeed.... what a funny thing to say. that is VERY FUCKING interesting......
woah he looks so cool i love art i love images. also he looks like has the windows logo on his face... sponsored? hello?
okay so i guess the mayor is having a bad dream. this is pretty scary man... i wonder if its like the ring that he has affecting him in some way. i dont know what it means....
oh? vriska is here now
dawwww shes so EEPY!!! that being said, the next page is [s] wake, and i really fucking hate this one. so im NOT EXCITED.
ARADIA!!!! SHE DID IT!!!! im so happy for her and nothing else happens in this animation so i might as well not watch the rest of it
:(
sigh. man this sucks
look at jade go. she looks so awesome! like a super hero. iron man. tony stark . stucky. i could do this all day . blargh
ok so now im playing another game thing. kanaya and jade just had a conversation about how they have the same role in the two different sessions and how theyre more similar than they thought. also theres some future jade present karkat past jade password shenanigans going on. i loooove when time travel makes no sense and is super confusing. that isnt sarcasm btw. and that wasnt either. also, they updated the sprites in this one so they look way better and sweeeeeeeet. that was 8 e's btw. she isnt even here to appreciate my efforts.....
this is like scott pilgrim to me. theyre about to go at it!!!! who you guys got money on? me personally i bet sollux 3-0s him and doesnt lose a stock
easter egg
anyway yeah guys i was just kidding sollux was no match for eridans insane hope powers. really wasnt even fair to begin with
yeah and now eridan snaps and becomes an incel. sadge. why do people even like this guy?? WHATEVER HES MID HOPE HE DIES SOON RIP BOZO
my honest reaction to eridan to only knocking out the guy he had an actual problem with, but killing two women who he liked and respected
on top of that, gamzee has officially lost it. MAN EVERYTHING IS FUCKING SPIRALING MAN TAVROS IS DEAD KANAYAS DEAD FEFERIS DEAD SOLLUX IS KO'D GAMZEES CRAZY. surely nothing else goes wrong
yeah
karkat....:(
oh.....hey john....nice to see you..... maybe you can lift my mood a little...
STOP CALLING WOMEN CRAZY. even if this one might be a little crazy .. YOU HAVE NO RIGHT
ALALALALLALAAL thats what vriska looks like shes saying. do you see it i see it personally
man now i gotta be equius in this game. lets see how this goes...
SHES SO REAL I LOVE HER. nothing bad will ever happen to her
okay well i reached the end of the game and also the image limit for this post. so ill continue this next time. but i just gotta say
that it was actually pretty good. like go figure the equius one was pretty engaging. equius is very protective of nepeta and it was very sad when he was like "let me take this chance to say goodbye" and nepeta was like "um okay but i will see you soon." like. yeah i guess you will.... :(
i actually liked both of them in this one isolated game . sad for whats gonna happen in the coming pages
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Last day. Day 7 Alternative universe. I couldn't decide for 6 hours. I decided on something I saw on tumblr ages ago and now I can't find. Grimm reaper AU. Warning death,murder,gore
Viggo saw him after victim 21. Viggo Grimborn was the most feared serial killer in the entire US. Everyone knew his name "The Dragon killer" He was going to get a folk story about him at this point or at the very least a documentary. Viggos victims were usually the same Strong arrogant people oftentimes, meaning they hurt those around them. That didn't make Viggo a good person especially since often his victims were innocent besides a few broken hearts. Not always but usually. He had 23 victims to his name and nothing was stopping him anytime soon.
Viggo killed out of boredom. Nothing in his life was exiting and after his first victim he didn't want to go back. He killed his brother after a fight with him over the business. Too much had happened that night on both ends and Viggo killed him. Viggo cleaned up what his house warming party was and put his brother in a vat of chemicals he made from things laying around the house. Viggo drove him two hours away and put him in a river but didn't weigh his brother down. So the cops found him a week and a half later, but because of the chemicals only needing a few days more they couldn't ID him. Viggo reported him missing two days later just so it wouldn't seem strange that he didn't report it.
During the day he was a wealthy business man with a blooming business in technology to his name. At night he was the dragon killer putting arrogant people in their place specifically the ground. He was called the dragon killer because all he left was a pile of bones and a coin that had a dragon with its stomach torn open. He choses his victims carefully and with much studying. Making sure they're exactly his type of person before he kills them and that there's an obvious escape goat the cops will go after. He then shots his bow and arrow through an open window in their home that he lock picked before they got there. He uses a bow and arrow because it's quieter and leaves less of a mark on the bones if he misses the artery he's aiming for. Which only happened once because damn the gym junkie won't sit still. Plus he can fold it up and wood isn't seen on metal scanners. Once he shoots them he dips them in acid for squeaky clean bones. He knows he should use a chemical that dissolves the bones better, but he got it wrong the first time when he panicked and likes that the bones vanish after two weeks. Leaving the cops in difficult situations, but also know that he did this. Viggo knew he was himself arrogant, but he could check himself if he needed to unlike his victims.
He first noticed the young man loitering in the lobby of the apartment of the man he just killed. this was his 21 kill. He was leaning on a wall without a care in the world. Viggo only gave him a glance, but brown eyes met green as though the young man knew he was going to look his way. Viggo kept walking as to not attract attention. He was at the 22 kill crime scene in the crowd outside the building. The 23 he was talking to someone else in an alley. The 24 was the kicker. There was a knock on the door causing Viggo to drop the body into the vat which made a splash. Had Viggo been wrong about this victim being isolated enough to give him time to escape? No he had made sure he wouldn't be caught till morning. None the less he hid in a hallway off the door so he could spring the unwanted guest. He heard the door swing open. He had forgotten to lock it behind him. He had to more careful next time, he couldn't afford to get sloppy. He heard the light thud of a boot before he lunged.
They wrestled to the ground with Viggo wining. The man he pinned being oddly light. When they fell to the floor the intruder's hood fell off. It was the young man! He had green eyes and brown hair and freckles that adorned his skin.
"What are you a cop?” Viggo questioned “ doesn't matter either way” Viggo swung his arrow up " You'll die just like the rest-"
"Not quite mortal" The young man turned in to black smoke before Vigo hit came close. He phased past Viggo only for him to rematerialize behind him.
"I don't hope to see you again, but I know I will" only giving a sad smile before disappearing out under the door.
The young man occupied his thoughts. His next victim wasn't out of bored but because he wanted to see that young man again. He was still careful, just quicker. Usual it took a month or two for him to get bored again and look for another victim. This time he did it in a week. And he waited longer at the victims. His effort paid off. He saw the young man again and they spoke for a awhile. His name was Hiccup and he was a grim reaper. The kind of reaper that took the soul after the kill. He could be seen by humans if he wanted to and by the victim and often someone close by at the time of death. Kill after kill they talked until he was at kill 31 when he realized he should ask Hiccup out. So he did. Viggo Grimborn asked out the grim reaper know as Hiccup.
Hiccup seemed flustered at his question and asked for Viggo to give him time. Viggo respected his wishes and for the first time in months he slowed his killing. Which all in all was smart the cops had almost picked up a pattern with how frequent the last couple kills were. He waited 3 months the longest he ever had when it came to killing, but this kill was about answers and after 3 month he couldn't take it anymore he had to know. With everything set he put his victim in the acid and waited. There was a small whoosh sound and creak of the floor. Viggo turned around and smiled. There Hiccup was standing with a dead rose in hand dressed in a suit.
"And here I thought you changed your mind when you hadn't killed anyone in 2 months" The grim reaper said along with a bashful smile.
"I was waiting for you to make the next move. Then I realized I don't have your number" Viggo said with a cheeky grin and a kiss to Hiccups knuckles. Hiccup gave him a peck on the lips before pulling away.
"You can find me at any graveyard just ask for Hiccup and knock 2 times." Hiccup gave a shy smile before saying " Where should we go for our first date?"
Viggo once again kissed the grim reaper.
I rushed this one a bit. No beta. 1206 words
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