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crispy-chan · 3 years

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seesaw ↣ min yoongi

↣ pairing: min yoongi x f.reader ↣ genre/warnings: fluff, angst, light cursing ↣ word count: 1646 ↣ a/n: happy birthday yoongi. this is yet again a product of like an hour of writing but i hope it isn't terrible. oh, and i love seesaws. - listen to seesaw by suga

main masterlist (skz) | bts materlist

---

“It was a good start The ups and downs, themselves Before I knew it, we grew tired With meaningless emotional drains”

For the longest time, Min Yoongi was just a friend. The boy next door. You went together to elementary school, middle school, and now high school. For the longest time, he was just that.

It wasn't until you were in your late teens, that he asked you out. Occasional greetings turned into walking to school together, multiple study sessions, and a few dates.

For the first date, he took you to the park for a picnic. He prepared the entire picnic basket himself, even making fresh sandwiches and some raspberry lemonade. Laying the pleated yellow blanket on the emerald grass, he motioned for you to sit first, like a true gentleman.

“Thanks, Yoongi. It looks delicious,” you smiled at him, pushing a strand of your hair behind your ear. Squinting against the sunlight, you decided to move to the side, so your back would face the sun.

Yoongi took a seat across from you, flashing you a gummy smile before pulling out the paper plates and arranging the meal.

“I made some Caprese sandwiches. I hope you'll like them.”

Taking a big bite, you sighed at the taste, the familiar flavor melting on your tongue.

“They're really good, Yoongi. I love them. Didn't know that you could cook,” you beamed, the light breeze making your hair flutter around your neck.

At that moment, Yoongi knew he was in love. The laughs and giggles, the wide smiles, and your sparkling eyes looking at him like that. He felt like he found paradise. You gulped down the rest of the sandwich, not forgetting to compliment him and thank him for preparing them.

Sipping the fruity lemonade, you sighed, closing your eyes and looking up. A few fluffy clouds graced the clear blue sky. Yoongi got up, walking in the directions of the flower field, leaving you behind on the blanket.

“I'm just going to get some flowers,” he explained upon seeing the confusion on your face. Your frown disappeared, a boisterous laugh leaving you as you waved to him.

“Come back soon, Yoongs.”

Roughly ten minutes passed by, and you were starting to get worried. You contemplated running after him, to make sure everything was okay, but you didn't have to. Yoongi was pacing back to you, his hands behind his back, almost as if hiding something.

“Whatcha got there?” you questioned, excitement bubbling in your heart.

Yoongi's heart fluttered, cheeks reddening at the display. He slowly pulled his hand from behind his back, revealing a small flower crown.

You gasped with glee, looking up at him with glazing orbs. “I-Is that f-for me?”

Rather than answering the question, Yoongi chose to place the delicate wreath on your head. It felt like centuries have passed, by the time you have calmed your racing heartbeat.

After that, you guys walked to the empty playground. At some point, Yoongi's hand softly gripped yours, and you had to stop the urge to squeal.

His hand was much bigger than yours, easily engulfing your palm in his own, as he swayed them back and forth. Reaching for the gate, he opened it, letting you in.

You walked to the old seesaw in the back, the yellow paint chipping off after years of usage. With a laugh, you sat down, Yoongi walking to the other side and doing the same. Taking turns, you pushed yourselves off the ground in short intervals, laughing and chatting.

Yoongi told you about his dream, how he wanted to pursue music in life, even if everybody around him told him not to. It was hard to make it in the industry, with no promise of a stable career in the future.

But you encouraged him. Told him how he should pursue his dream, do what his heart longed for. He was delighted, you have been the first person to show outright support when it came to this passion of his. The serotonin was high when he realized that you said you would stand by him till the end.

After that, he walked you home as the moon lit up your path. The night was chilly, so after he noticed you shiver, he immediately threw his denim jacket over your shoulders and rubbed comforting circles on your hand.

You tried to protest, telling him that you were fine, that you didn't want him to freeze, but he dismissed it with a wave of his hand.

Arriving at your place, you were sad that the day came to an end. Yoongi has let go of your hand and you were walking up the steps but before you stepped inside, you turned around and quickly pecked him on the cheek.

Your cheeks flooded with warmth as you whispered a quiet “goodnight” before storming inside. Yoongi stood in front of your door for a few minutes, glued to the pavement before he was able to leave. His mind was still hazy from the kiss you gave him and he realized he wanted more.

---

It took three more dates before he officially asked for you to be his girlfriend. He grabbed your hand while in a restaurant, looking you in the eye and telling you how much he enjoyed your company and wanted to be able to call you his and spend more time with you.

You instantly agreed, chest filling with warmth as a wave of giddiness crashed over you.

Everything was going so well, the two of you going on weekly dates, texted all day, and even had study sessions together.

This went on for almost a year. It felt like your life was complete, you had everything you could possibly long for. Things were going great with Yoongi.

Until they weren't.

“Repeated seesaw game Now, I'm so sick of this Repeated seesaw game We're getting sick and tired of each other”

It seems like good things aren't meant to last. Bit by bit, the relationship the two of you have carefully built, was crumbling. Falling apart.

Weekly dates turned into monthly ones, Yoongi being all closed up in the studio, working on tracks until ungodly hours. You tried to speak to him, remind him to take breaks, occasionally even visiting him and bringing him dinner.

But it felt like he was shutting you out. Any attempt to mend your relationship felt futile. But you weren't prepared to give up. To give up on him. Not when everyone else around him has already done so.

You texted him. Told him to meet you at the playground. That if he wouldn't show, you personally go to the studio and make a scene.

He agreed, promising he'll be there. You felt a pang in your chest when you heard how tired he was. Someone had to make sure this boy wouldn't burn himself out.

You sat on the seesaw. The exact same one you and Yoongi were on almost a year ago. But it wasn't the same without him. Five minutes have passed. Ten. Twenty.

You were beginning to worry. Where was he? What if he didn't show? He was almost half an hour late at this point. You felt tears prick at the corner of your eyes, slowly standing up to leave in shame.

But then a running Yoongi came into view. He sprinted across the grass, bursting through the playground gate and stopping right in front of you. Bending down and placing his hands on his knees, he panted heavily before looking up.

His eyes.

They caught you by surprise. It has been ages since you last stared into his chocolate brown orbs. You could see the unshed tears welling up in them.

“I have something to show you,” he whispered.

“Were the petty arguments the start? The moment I became heavier than you Because there have never been parallels in the first place Maybe it was my greed trying to match myself with you If it was love, and if this is what love means Is there really a need to keep repeating ourselves We're tired of each other, yet seem to be holding the same cards Well, then”

He pulled out his phone, swiping it open before clicking on something. An unfamiliar melody sounded in the vast night, lyrics that you heard for the first time, yet still felt as if you knew them by heart. After the track finished, Yoongi pocketed his phone, slowly looking up, waiting for your reaction.

When he saw none (you were too stunned by hearing him sing for the first time), so he started to explain.

“I- I know things have been going downhill with us. And I wanted to apologize, it's mostly my fault. I kept locking myself up in the studio, completely neglecting you and overall just acting like a dick-”

You laughed at that, making Yoongi smile.

“-it has been rocky, but I still love you. I came late because I was adding some finishing touches to the song. I guess I needed to get it out of my system. But in the meantime, I remembered why you mean so much to me. And I wanted to ask you - would you be willing to give us another chance?”

He looked up to you, shaking the hair off his forehead. His eyes shone with guilt, hope, and longing.

“I- I think we could try again,” you stammered, “but no more shutting me out. Understood?”

“Yes.”

This brought you here. Three months later. The both of you were sitting on the seesaw, reminiscing about how you sat here for the first time, over a year ago. The seesaw has become your safe space, you'd go there after every argument, achievement, or when you just felt like annoying parents who thought you two had no business on the playground.

“There's no turning back”

a/n: hope you liked it. feel free to let me know your thoughts. stay safe ✨

#min yoongi #min yoongi x reader #min yoongi imagine #min yoongi drabble #yoongi x reader #yoongi imagine #yoongi x reader fluff #yoongi x reader angst #bts fluff #bts angst #suga x reader #suga imagine #seesaw #happy yoongi day #bts fanfiction #crispy chan

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mamahersh · 3 years

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The Road to Hell (is Paved with Good Intentions) Chapter 5

“Season 8 was well underway, and the server’s first conflict is bubbling just under the surface. But BDoubleO can’t worry about that right now because he has an Etho to find so they can work on the Horse Course together. However when Xisuma calls a surprise server meeting on behalf of EvilXisuma, BDubs gets his answers about where Etho’s been in the worst way possible.”

(CW: angst, blood, gore, torture)

Chapter rating: M

Back to the rescue team and those left behind, focusing on BDubs and a surprise Mumbo Jumbo! (Bet you weren’t expecting Mumbo angst.) Thank you all again for your interest! As previously mentioned, if you enjoyed this, I was directly inspired by this fic over on AO3.

Chapter 1 / Chapter 2 / Chapter 3 / Chapter 4 / Chapter 6

BDubs knew it was going to be hard trying to find where Etho and EvilX were hiding, but he neglected to remember how nerve wracking it would be with the added challenge of hearing his communicator go off every time someone died. Admittedly, it had only been the two times thus far, but checking and seeing they were both Etho made him want to go insane. The only boon they had, paradoxically, was the same curse keeping Etho stuck in that hell hole: that they were able to respawn in the same place they had died in. This at least meant that their progress wouldn’t be undone at a moment’s notice because someone died and got sent to their base halfway across the map in the opposite direction they were searching.

After he had checked his communicator to see the death message, “Ethoslab was slain by Ethoslab whilst trying to escape EvilXisuma”; BDubs decided he would stop watching chat completely. If someone died, he knew they would be fine, and he really didn’t need to know how else Etho was going to suffer till they found him. Plus, he had Doc keeping an eye on Etho for him. And he had Beef by his side, plus the Big Eye crew supporting him. He just had to keep reminding himself he wasn’t alone, it wasn’t the jungle again, he had his people with him.

“Hey BDubs, you see anything yet?” called out Tango, flying by on his own elytra. BDubs startled in the straps of his elytra, and focused more on the ground below.

“I got nothin’!” he called back, swooping to the back of the formation the big eyes crew had made to check the area stretching from the girls’ southernmost border to the northernmost border of Cleo and Joe’s shared territory. They had decided to first fly over their assigned strip of the x coordinate line to see if there was anything obviously wrong from a bird’s eye view. After that, depending on the results from the other search teams, they would dig down in strategic intervals to be as thorough as possible. They had calculated the size of the room based on the video feed before they had left, and so they planned on digging straight down every 9 blocks along the axis. As crazy as that was, they were hoping with forteen hermits all doing it at the same time equally spaced along the line, they would be able to find Etho within an hour or two. (This all assumed that EvilX hadn’t been lying, but this was the only thing they had.)

——————————————————-

Mumbo hated every decision that had led him to this moment. He hated every decision that others have made on his behalf that had led to this moment. (That was a lie, he blamed himself completely. Even though Grian had had the idea to institute him as the CEO of Boatem, it was still his final say as to whether he would actually complete the role assigned to him. It was his decision to step up to the plate and lead them at this critical time. Everything that was happening was entirely his fault.) As he watched, horrified, Etho having to stay strong without anyone by his side; Mumbo thought he would throw up. If he didn’t faint first that was. (How pathetic of him, that he couldn’t handle the consequences of his actions.) He stood miserable in front of the screen, promising himself the least he could do was watch every moment Etho was without help and in pain because of him.

Beside him, Xisuma frantically typed in his admin console, seemingly trying in vain to undo whatever EvilXisuma had done to the respawn mechanics. To his other side, TFC stood stoically, seemingly unaffected by what he was witnessing, though Mumbo was sure that if he looked over, he’d be able to see the disguised pain in TFC’s eyes. Behind and a bit to the side of Xisuma was Joe, who’s pain was obvious to see, but stood strong despite it. (Mumbo wondered why Joe was here at all, till he remembered how close Joe was to Xisuma). To TFC’s other side stood Doc, who looked about one more Etho death from finding a way to crawl through the screen and detonating in EvilXisuma’s face. And to Joe’s other side stood Scar, sympathetic tears trailing down his face and holding himself in a way that Mumbo knew he did when he was particularly missing the comfort of Jellie the cat.

Mumbo watched as Etho poofed back into existence, arm that he had mangled looking noticeably more mangled than before.(Though there was something off about the restraints and his arm’s relation to them that Mumbo couldn’t place. It didn’t help the camera’s resolution wasn’t quite perfect clarity, and a bit of a wide shot, so details were a little difficult to pick out. Though it didn’t stop them from seeing the next part just fine.) Once Etho was back, EvilXisuma punched him in the face, hard enough they could see a tooth fly out of his mouth.

“You will regret that,” stated EvilXisuma, just barely loud enough to be picked up by the camera. (Mumbo knows Etho would normally have replied with something like, ‘you already said that’, but, well…)

“Any updates Xisuma?” questioned Doc, still staring intently at the screen looking for any clues as to the whereabouts of the the torture room.

“He’s still goin’ strong Doc,” replied Joe instead, peaking over Xisuma’s shoulder to see what he was up to. “You got any new clues?”

Doc growled under his breath. “No.” He sounded bitter to Mumbo, all acid and sharp edges.

“I can’t tell, but there’s something different about his arm I think,” said Mumbo hesitantly, nervously watching as the rest of the group stared intently up at the screen to see what he meant.

Scar spoke up, “I think I see what you mean. His arm isn’t quite aligned correctly with the chair arm, right?”

Mumbo nodded, pointing at Etho’s arm on the screen where it seemed to almost intersect with the cuff and was bleeding profusely. “I don’t know how, like if it was just a natural consequence of trying to move his arm in that direction as he died and respawned, or if it was just a one time fluke; but he seems to have gotten his wrist intersected with the cuff on the armrest and the stake from earlier seems off center.”

As Mumbo was trying to explain, EvilXisuma had begun to focus on Etho’s fingers, and starting on the opposite hand to the one they were observing, he began to break them individually. Mumbo was selfishly happy that he didn’t have to focus on Etho’s pain for a moment as he allowed himself to fully focus on the potential puzzle in front of him.

TFC suddenly spoke up, voice coming off as gruff. “Hrm, this is good and all, but it depends entirely on EvilXisuma not noticing this little update; which we’ve done a pretty poor job at not letting him on. What with him more than likely able to hear us, and all that.” Doc muttered a quiet, “fuck” under his breath in response, and they all held their breath as they waited to see if EvilXisuma would say anything.

Instead of saying anything, he continued to methodically snap more of Etho’s fingers, causing the group to flinch in varying amounts at each wet snap. However, as Mumbo was trying to take in details not relating to Etho’s pain, he could tell that the mic was picking up EvilXisuma’s muttering. But Mumbo didn’t have the super amazing hearing that someone like Ren or Grian had; but he wondered if one of the other people in the group here had more sensitive hearing. “Anyone able to make out what he’s saying?” muttered Mumbo.

Doc hissed a quiet affirmative, and muttered back, “Yesssss, but I need to focus. Please everyone be quiet, thanks.” Everyone but Xisuma nodded back, who was too busy still trying to figure out what EvilXisuma had done to the code to notice anything else around him.

Mumbo did his best to both suffer the consequences of his actions, while at the same time he couldn’t stand watching one of his fellow Hermits in that much pain. He could no longer distract himself, as he couldn’t make out what EvilXisuma was saying, and there were only so many times he could try to determine how many pixels on the screen related to the walls were just stone or his imagination trying to give him impossible answers. EvilXisuma had finally finished with Etho’s left hand, and he now moved to the right before he took a noticeable pause. Mumbo held his breath, hoping beyond hope that EvilXisuma somehow hadn’t noticed Etho’s weirdly placed hand. But that was an impossible wish after all.

“Well well well, how have you managed this then?” Evil Xisuma appeared to poke the part of the wrist that seemed to be poking part way out of the cuff. Mumbo couldn’t help but notice that Etho seemed so gone that he barely flinched at what should have been an incredibly painful jostle. “I’m interested in seeing how you struggle with this.” Evil X nodded at Etho. “Yes, I shall let you struggle. But we still have about 9 more bones to break, so on we go.” With that, he kneeled in front of Etho and started snapping the fingers on Etho’s right hand. Each wet snap ended with a muted whine and shudder from Etho, who seemed to have zoned out far enough that any reactions seemed mostly involuntary at this point. EvilXisuma seemed quiet for the first few snaps, before he went back to muttering in a just barely audible way. Mumbo could only assume that EvilXisuma was unaware that his mic sensitivity was set too high, and thought he was muttering in such a way as for those of them watching the stream would be unable to hear him. That, or it was an unconscious habit, and didn’t even realize he was doing it. Either way, Mumbo continued hoping he would continue to do so, so that maybe he would let something slip and Doc could post it in chat.

Meanwhile Doc had been listening closely to what EvilX had been saying, but none of it thus far had led to a clue. Most of what he was muttering were curses and the terrible things he planned to do to Etho. Honestly Doc wished he couldn’t hear what EvilX was saying, just so that he wasn’t obligated to continue listening to see if that scum slipped up. But the chance of catching something important was too high, so he went back to diligently listening to the stream, mentally cursing at every suppressed gasp or whine or wet snap from Etho.

EvilXisuma made quick work of Etho’s fingers, and seemingly tired of Etho’s lack of responses decided he needed to kill him. However, because he was feeling particularly vindictive, he gutted Etho, guts spilling over his knees before he disappeared in a flash of red. Mumbo, morbidly curious how the game would register the death, looked down at his communicator. “Ethoslab was slain by EvilXisuma.” He was selfishly grateful that the server messages were that generic. He watched further as Etho poofed back into the chair, though as before his killing blow hadn’t followed him through respawn, but all his previous wounds did. Mumbo looked very carefully at Etho’s wrists and saw that he had managed to get his wrist farther out, and the stake seemed almost completely out of his arm. Unfortunately for Etho, respawn managed to break him out of his trance, and he seemed far more present and aware (and in pain) for the moment. The only positive that Mumbo could see was that EvilXisuma seemed to have either turned off the speakers on his end, or was ignoring them completely. But Mumbo could only hope that either Doc would hear something soon, or the search parties would stumble across the hidden room soon; because he wasn’t sure how much more of this he could watch.

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mother-snake · 4 years

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the scale of the situation pt 2

(welcome back to this heap of a mess known as me creating a series and hoping to see it through. also yay or nay to bringing nico flores in to this..)

begining: the scale of the situation pt 1

next: the scale of the situation pt 3

taggs: @idkanameatall @girl-with-many-fandoms @imma-potatoo @smoltreehousekid @prinxiety-shipper101 warnings: dead body mention, blood... dw just remus being remus words: 1286

-overload pt1-

the next time it happened was only a few days later. He had been sitting at his desk, trying to get some of his work done. But it seemed with everything he got done, double would take its place. And he found himself getting frustrated with it all.

And thus, he stood up and ignored the increasing pile. Leaving it as it was for now and making his way out of his room and down the hall. He knew Logan wouldn’t be in his room so that would be the perfect place to hide for the time being.

He opened the door and did a quick look around. Searching for the best place to hid for the time being, or at least until his work didn’t seem as daunting.

He quickly found himself close to the floor and slithering around trying to find any nook or cranny that could contain him. and he found that on logans bed hidden under a blanket at the end of his bed that had been crumpled up. he made sure his head was poking out of the blanket to ensure he wasn’t sat on.

The soft fabric felt nice against his smooth scales, providing a sense of comfort as well as covering him, mostly, from sight.

As time passed, he began to find himself falling asleep once again. But even so he still kept his eyes on the door, waiting for Logan to return from wherever he had wondered off to. --

Logan had been in fact sitting in the living room with roman and Remus, going over the weekly schedule. he glanced to his watch. He still needed another half an hour until he could get back to the extra work in his room that needed done. he turned back to the barely started schedule and let out a sigh.

“come on! if he spends the day planning out the new video’s then he can spend the rest of the week doing everything else!” roman said exasperated. “yes. But by doing that he could end up overworking himself and you. if we do it in hourly intervals every day, he can still do other things,” Logan said back, trying his best not to snap at roman. “I'm with the nerd on this one roman,” Remus sighed, “look can we just call it quits. I’ve got a corpse in my room with my name on it,” he grinned.

“we might as well,” Logan said glaring at the barely filled calendar, “were getting nothing done.” “oh come now,” roman said to the both of them, “we can do this!” “we’ve being going since six in the morning. It is currently,” he looked down to his watch, “fifteen minutes till ten,” Logan said.

“oh fine, very well then,” roman said as he stood up, “shall we continue this later then?” he asked. “I think that’s fair; I shall see the both of you later then,” he said before picking up the paper. he was vaguely aware of the sound of moving chairs and footsteps before he was alone. Or so he thought.

He looked up and was startled by Remus looking at him with squinted eyes. he stared for a couple seconds before picking up the pile of paper and the several pens. “what do you want Remus?” he asked. “eh, I don’t know. Just going to sit in your room if you don’t mind,” he said. “what about the corpse?” “fucking with my brother as usual. Its in his room,” he snickered.

Logan let a small smile grace his face. it was not an unknown thing that Logan enjoyed pranking the other sides and always found whatever Remus did to be amusing much to their shock.

They had apparently spent a week debating who had put the spiders inside the cookie jar and decided it was Remus. Oh, how wrong they were.

He gestured for Remus to follow as he made his way up the stairs and towards is room. A little upset that he would have to get work done now, but alas, it must be done.

He paused as he reached his door. He could have sworn, nay. He knew he had shut it when he had left. “you okay there specks?” Remus asked as he saw Logans shoulders tense.

Logan didn’t respond but pushed the door open with his free arm he looked around the room quickly before his eyes softened at a sight, he hoped wouldn’t be the case.

There poking a small head out but fast asleep was Janus. “oh,” Remus said as he looked at his friend.

They glanced to one another before slowly making their way. they had to step over a couple piles of books and a few scattered clothing items. “you know, for logic, your room is rather messy,” Remus hushed over. “and for intrusive, yours is rather immaculate,” Logan shot back, a playful tune in what was said. “touché,”

As Remus got close enough, he carefully picked up the blanket with the snake inside and sat down on the bed before placing it back down onto his lap.

Logan placed the paper onto his desk’s chair. The desk itself was swamped in things that could be done quickly once he had the time. His main priority right now being Janus.

“I take it you already know about this habit of his?” Remus said. “indeed, Virgil and I found him like this under Janus’s bed only a couple days ago,” he said. “was that when he didn’t arrive for breakfast?” he asked. “indeed, it was a rather… unusual situation for me,” he said, rubbing an arm as he sat down next to Remus, bringing his legs up and crossing them.

They didn’t speak anymore in fear of waking Janus from his sleep. Logan however did move after a while to get some work done, occasionally getting some input from Remus when he got stuck.

They both smirked when they heard an all mighty scream coning from roman’s room. they looked at each other with a knowing look and tried their best to withhold their laughter in case it awoke Janus. but after Remus saw Janus’s head shift slightly, he knew that he was starting to wake up and placed him next to himself. --

Janus awoke to the sound of what he thought was a scream. There was slight movement and for a brief second, he felt as if he was in the air. But as soon as it happened it was over.

He cracked his eyes open and looked up to see Logan and Remus in the room with him. “hello Janus!” Remus exclaimed. “good morning Janus,” Logan said.

He slithered out of the blanket and up and around Remus’s neck. He wasn’t quite ready to shift back and he hoped that by doing this he would hopefully feel a lot better.

He was startled when the door slammed open and roman stood there with a red smudge covering his torso. He peaked his head up in curiosity and looked onwards.

“I swore to god. Whichever one of you it was, fess now or I will run both of you with my sword!” he yelled.

Janus glanced up to Remus and then over to Logan. nope he wasn’t dealing with this. he uncurled himself and slid down Remus’s back and onto the bed before twirling down a bed post and along the floor, letting out a goodbye in the form of a hiss.

Roman only watched in confusion as the snake made its way past him. covered in familiar shimmering golden scales.

“wait was that deceit- “he said in surprise snapping his head to see no snake, nor person in the hall.

#sander sides #remus sanders #janus sanders #logan sanders #roman sanders #snake janus #tw blood #tw corp #surprisingly one of my least dark stories so far. this whole series may just be fluff for now!#hope you guys enjoy!#ts spoilers #ts spoiler

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thoughtfullyyoungduck · 4 years

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Things that change

A/N/ this was requested by an anon, I hope you enjoy! I’m really sorry if it's not what you wanted it to be, I’m sorry! Let me know what you think!

summary: may i suggest richie and eddie post chapter 2 moving in together? feel like a lot of fics don’t focus on the cute bits i want, like richie being so confused at all of eddies kitchen appliances, learning how to make actual coffee with a cafetiere, then eddie being shocked that richies actually a great cook.

Richie is not consciously aware of the small changes Eddie is making in his house, mostly because he barely sees the house, traveling from one place to the other for the majority of six weeks, until he comes home one day, when his tour is finally completed, and it hits him in the face like a pair of bricks.

He just got home after going on tour through the country, where he lived 24 hours a day on a bus that was older then fucking Pennywise himself, the brakes making a peeping sound whenever the bus driver’s foot so much as touched the paddle, making him fear for his life every day. His routine is honestly a little disgusting, even he knew that. Before Eddie came along he survived on frozen pizza’s for about five days a week, and the other two days he ordered in Chinese. After Neibolt and reconnecting with the losers, Richie had figured that his life would go back to what it was, minus the Chinese food of course. He doesn’t know if he can ever stand the smell of Chinese ever again.

That wasn’t quite what happened however. Richie had plans to stay at Eddie side until the latter was healed and was allowed to go home. Richie hadn’t been sure what ‘home’ even meant to Eddie, but he didn’t want to express how he felt only to be punched in the face by it, regardless of how much he wanted Eddie to like him. Sitting by Eddie’s bedside had almost been worse than facing Pennywise, because that was real. He could touch Eddie and he would be solid, and Eddie was actually his best friend, not a rendition of Pennywise, and that made it even more scary.

Richie had fully accepted that he would remain single and alone without Eddie, by the time Eddie was training to go to the bathroom by himself. But no, brave, intimidating and insanely hot Eddie Kaspbrak had different ideas. While Richie spluttered around words and doing everything in his power to keep the subject off of his feelings about Eddie almost dying, Eddie surged forward and connected their lips in messy, but passionate kiss.

It had shook Richie to his core, who had frozen up, as one does when the guy they’ve been in love with since they were barely preteens.

And it made Richie fall even more in love with Eddie, how he could set his mind to something and think fuck it, before doing it without wasting another second. . Sometimes, late at night while Eddie was sound asleep, Richie would talk to him. During the day Eddie and him would spend most of their rime bickering, which Richie was more than fine with. He absolutely loved the way him and Eddie reacted to each other, they way they teased and pushed and waited for the inevitable reaction from the other person. That was all little Richie had ever wanted from adult life, to continue to have Eddie’s attention on him at all times.

He did give Eddie plenty of affection, he was always giving him compliments, but he disguised it in a sarcastic tone, turning it into a joke whenever Eddie got too close to finding out what he was truly feeling in that moment.

But when Eddie was snoring almost inaudible, which he would deny to the day he died, Richie told him how he truly thought about things, how much he truly loved Eddie. The love he shared for the man is blinding in it’s intensity, and he’s afraid of getting blinded by it if he looks to deep into his feelings, but mostly he’s afraid that Eddie would get blinded. He doesn’t want to lose Eddie now, after all the shitload they’ve been through, just because Richie was too clingy and forward for Eddie’s liking.

Especially since he was the one who asked Eddie to move in with him. Eddie had appeared so panicked, and paused for so long that Richie was afraid he would burst into hysteric laughter and confess to Richie that he was only kidding the entire time. Thankfully he didn’t, Richie didn’t know what he would have done if that had been the case. Instead, a smile took over Eddie’s face, the one that he rarely showed but meant he was utterly full with happiness, and said; ‘of course Rich.’, with the same fondness in his voice he always and exclusively used for Richie.

The actual road to getting Eddie to move in with Richie practically, had been harder then either expected. It took Eddie another three months before being released from the hospital, and even that had been a hassle.

When Eddie was in week seven of his revalidation, he was very nearly discharged, if it hadn’t been for himself. He claimed that he wasn’t ready yet, that he felt the wound on his chest itch and that puss was coming out. Richie was almost mad at first, blaming Eddie’s hesitance on leaving the hospital on the fact that he was looking for excuses to get out of his promise to Richie to live together, but then he had looked up signs of an infection, and came to the conclusion that Eddie was right.

The skin around the wound was bright red, Eddie was in real pain whenever he moved, even when the week before it hadn’t hurt at all, and as soon as Richie ghosted his hand over the wound, he could feel the heat radiate for the scar.

Unfortunately, the hospital staff hadn’t believed them, curtsy to Sonia Kaspbrak for bringing Eddie in so many times when there was nothing wrong with him. They were forced to go to a different hospital where they did take them seriously, and Richie had spent weeks negotiating with the first hospital to make a damage claim.

So yeah, sue Richie for being the most happy person on earth when he finally managed to haul Eddie’s ass across the country to LA. Until he realized that thanks to Eddie’s infected injury, he had to leave for tour the day after they would make it home, causing Eddie to be by himself to settle into the house.

God knows Richie tried to change the tour dates, but Steve was ready to kill him, and thanks to the disasters last show he had, for which he definitely had an excuse he couldn’t tell fucking anyone about, he had no other choice but to leave so he could try to save what little of his career was left.

He had asked Mike to stay over for a while, and he had almost insisted enough, but his plans changed when Eddie caught wind of what he was trying to achieve. Eddie refused to let Mike babysit him, adamantly wiping all the argument card Richie had from the table with a firm hand. Eddie wasn’t about to saddle Mike with the responsibility of taking care of an injured man, after all he had done by staying in Derry.

Richie had wanted to argue, but out of fear of sounding to much like Myra and Sonia, he proposed to Eddie that he’d have a nurse come over once a week, to which Eddie agreed, and then backed off. He was fine with anything as long as Eddie was safe.

The only times he could spend with Eddie at home were the short intervals between performances, during which Richie hurried to catch a plane, still fearing a little that Eddie had made the decision to leave when he was gone.

He never was. He resigned himself every time to sit on the black, leather sofa, while facing the tv and the door as well slightly, while eating whatever salad he had cooked up. It appeared to be a routine, because Richie would always know exactly where Eddie would be when he walked in the door. It was something so small and insignificant to most, but to Richie, it felt like the entire world stopped spinning for a moment, caught up in the fact that Eddie Kaspbrak loved him of all people.

It warmed his insides that Eddie waited for him before eating no matter how late it got, and saved him a plate, placed neatly on the table across from his own. It was by far the moment he always looked forward too regardless of what he was doing. Nothing could top those moments.

That was the first thing Richie should have noticed when he returned to his house, but Richie wouldn’t be Richie if he wasn’t so caught up in Eddie, that he failed to see what was happening right in front of him.

The second thing he should have noticed was all the new shit his apartment had miraculously produced apparently, but again, he was too busy basking in the beauty of his boyfriend, that he glossed over the new materials like they weren’t even there.

To be fair to him though, he had been barely seen the inside of the home, but he still almost wants to hit himself over the head for ignoring the obvious.

Now though, now he’s finally home for good, or at least till he starts his new tour, he sees everything in a different light. It was about four o’clock in the afternoon when Richie dropped his bags next to the front door, kicked of his shoes, and sleepily shuffled towards the first seating area he could occupy, which would be the couch.

It’s not very comfortable to lay on it, but it would do, since Richie had serious doubts that his muscle would cooperate with him if he tried to move.

Eddie wasn’t home, a bit of a shame really, but he had to go to physio training, and Richie had insisted he went. Eddie more than likely would have gone even without Richie’s blessing, but it was nice to know Richie cared about Eddie enough to put his needs above his wants.

Which means he is home alone with just him and his thoughts to entertain him. The house is complete silent as he skipped walking towards the tv remote to turn it in, and the atmosphere in the room was the same as before Derry, Richie didn’t like it.

So, before he could spiral in a dark, depressing self-doubt that followed him around like a dark cloud, he rolled of the sofa, groaning when he landed it bit harshly. He wanted to sleep badly, but he was adamant about waiting for Eddie before he did, and he knew Eddie would not kiss him unless he showered, so he sighed as he stumbled towards the bathroom.

Again, if he had any brain cells left, he might have taken notice of all the new products laying around on the wash table, however he shook off the feeling of something being off, stripping naked and stepping under a stream of ice cold water.

Richie liked his water cold, he always has from since he was a kid, and he adjusted the temperature from time to time, but never enough for the water to be actually warm. It took a second to register, but the water was scolding hot.

He hisses instantly, jumping out of reach of the shower, already reaching out to damper the warmth.

He frowns in confusion, he’s not exactly sure how that’s possible for a second, until his mind catches up and he realizes that it must have been Eddie that changed it.

He shrugged to himself, laughing when he realized how much of a fool he must look like when he does, than he continues on as he would usually do.

It’s when he tries to take hold of his shampoo with his eyes closed, and he can’t feel the familiar carton of the body wash he’s used for years, that he recognizes that it’s not longer at it’s usual spot.

‘What’, he mutters while opening his eyes. The body wash is nowhere to be find. In fact, neither is any shampoo he has a habit of using. There nothing in the shower, or the shower holder, so Richie allowed himself three seconds of mentally preparing, before he darts back out of the shower, nearly freezing as he looks around his bathroom for something to use.

It’s so cold that Richie wraps his arms around himself in a futile attempt to keep himself warm, while glancing around the room in a hast. There is a variety of shower goods stacked neatly on top of each other, most of which Richie has no idea what they mean.

The names on there don’t ring any bells either, so he stares and tries to figure it out, but it’s getting even colder fast, and the waterdrops are drying on his skin without him even using a towel, so he makes the executive decision of grabbing the first bottle he can get his hands on.

He’s not wearing his glasses, so he can’t read the name of what it is he is holding in his hands, but he can see a picture of a lemon on the front, and figures that it’s a nice enough smell to use. It’s not as good as his usual body wash, Richie decides after he’s covered most of his body in the substance. The smell is a bit too persistent for Richie’s taste, and it feels way thicker than the one he had before, but he is still tired, and mostly just looking for a way to finish up as soon as he can.

When he gets out of the shower again, this time with a town at his disposal, and he has reset his glasses so he can finally see again, he takes another look at all the things that are in his bathroom. And there is a lot. Even now that he can read what they’re called, he still can’t place most of these names, and he’s pretty sure he’s never even heard of some of these.

Richie’s getting interested in what else Eddie has brought into his home without him paying attention to it, so he goes out and checks his bedroom. There’s nothing out of the ordinary, and he figures that the longer he spends inside the room, the more he might get tempted to take a nap, so he exists again.

He looks at the clock and comes to the realization that Eddie is not going to be home yet for at least 30 more minutes, so he figures he might aswell make some food while he waits. He’s really desperate to see Eddie again after so long.

He walks into the newly placed kitchen, his hand drumming on top of every cabinets he passes until he reaches the one on the far left, the one where he stores his food, and opening it with a soft click. His manager had insisted on him having a decent looking kitchen for when guests came over, even if Richie never cooked for himself anyway, but Richie was happy with the end result.

He liked cooking, it was something his mom had taught him when he was just little, and he can remember preparing a few meals for his friends under the disguise of his mother being the one who had made it, beaming when all his friends complimented the dishes.

He stopped after moving out for college however, because cooking for himself made his heart ache more for some reason, as if he was reminding himself that he was all by himself, and nobody to share his talent with.

He threw something together once in a while, something that was very fatty and he should most definitely not eat, but did anyway because why fucking not.

He was so excited when Eddie agreed to move in with, he couldn’t wait to show off what he could do, but unfortunately he didn’t have that option before. He was going to make up for it though.

In his mind, he’s already picturing the meal he’s going to surprise Eddie with, his mind imagining some French fries with a steak and a butter sauce, knowing for sure that he left some fried down in the freezer, but when he opens the pantry, it’s full of stuff he had not bought.

There’s vegetables, and fruit, and plant based butter and a whole lot of healthy and fresh ingredients, which he has not used in forever.

He rummages through most of it, trying to locate anything he used to eat, but he comes up empty handed. He’s standing in his own kitchen deflating a little, for he has no idea what the hell happened in his own damn kitchen.

He sees all these new equipment taking up space, and he has no idea what they are supposed to be used for or even how to use them. His old espresso machine is gone, and in place is an old one he remembers seeing his parents make coffee in, and where his water boiler once stood, now stand a whole new teamaker, completed with fresh tea placed next to it.

He can’t help but his competitive side coming up, feeling as if Eddie was sure that Richie couldn’t cook with fresh ingredients, or with the new kitchen tools he bought, or even cook at all. Richie is going to show him just how wrong he is.

‘Alright Kaspbrak, bring it on.’ Richie is determined to show Eddie that he can make fresh food as good as whatever frozen things he used to make, so he gets work straight away.

Eventually, he decides on making Chicken Parm Stuffed Peppers, recalling the recipe at the top of his head from when he was a kid. It more nutrition in this one meal that Richie is making now, than there has been in the last three years of his life. That fact doesn’t quite set in until Eddie walks through the door, carrying two bowls of salad from the salad bar downtown.

Eddie stops once he sees that Richie is cooking, raising an eyebrow. ‘Can you cook or are you just trying to poison me?’

Richie downward whines when he sees the salad, because he’s suddenly realizing that he had been eating healthy with Eddie the entire time he was home, even though he had never done that before in most of his adult life.

‘You changed me eds’, he says overexaggerating but still meaning the words that come out of his mouth.’

Eddie’s face turns into a scowl, even as he come closer to Richie and presses a soft kiss to his lips. ‘Shut up asshole.’

‘No wait I’m serious, I come on.’ Richie leads the way to the bathroom, hoping Eddie is following him despite Richie behaving like a child.

‘Look, look at all those body washed Eddie Spaghetti. Tell me how I’m supposed to make sense of that?’

‘Oh my god, do not tell me you can’t tell the difference between bath oil, body scrub, body wash, body moisturizer and body butter you idiot.’

Richie stares quietly at Eddie, not having an answer because of course he had no idea what the difference was between all of these things, who did?

‘Are you kidding me asshole? Please tell me you used the correct body wash, please I’m begging you.’

‘I used that one’, Richie says as he points to the body butter. Seeing Eddie’s reaction makes him burst out in hearty laughter, his stomach starting to hurt at the sheer ridiculousness of it all.

Eddie is very clearly not amused, but Richie can see the small smile he’s doing his best to hide, even if he knows Richie will be able to see right through him.

‘I mean come on Eds, not even your mom used this much. And trust me I’d know because I saw her do it plenty after-‘

‘You fucked her yeah I know, I know asshole. And don’t call me Eds’

When Richie is done laughing, he walks back to the kitchen, pointing out all things that were not there before Richie left. The longer he explains, the more the smirk on Eddie’s face grows.

‘Look at this, what is this? I don’t eat healthy food, I eat take out every single day. And how do you even use this old school coffee thing?’

‘You mean a cafetiere?’ Eddie deadpans.

‘Whatever. And holy shit Eds I hadn’t even seen this we have plates mats now? What are we a fancy restaurant?’

Eddie rolls his eyes at Richie, throwing his arms up in a fed up movement.

‘So I like my stuff what’s wrong with that?’

‘Nothing I just don’t know what to do with all of this.’

Eddie can hear the hidden meaning behind the words just from Richie’s tone alone. It translates into saying; I don’t know if I’m good enough for you, I don’t know if I’m enough.

Eddie reaches forward again, squishing Richie’s cheeks between his hands. Listen to me Richie, you’re fine. It’s okay if you don’t like all of this, we can change that. I was just alone by myself and I didn’t have your opinion on anything. Now that you’re here, we can compromise okay?’

He waits until Richie nods confirmatively before pressing their lips together tightly as if it was the last time they got to kiss. When they pulled back, Richie scrunched his nose up as he smelled something burning.

It took a second for the penny to drop, before he piped up, rushing towards the stove. ‘My peppers.’

Eddie laughs as hidden as he can, not wanting to make it appear as if he was laughing at Richie. It’s clear however, that the food he was preparing is done and over with, the smoke evaporating before his very eyes. Richie looks like a kicked puppy, looking dejected over the edge of his glasses to see if Eddie was looking at him too.

‘Come on, I’ll order something in for once.’

Richie huffed while he trudged over to where Eddie was standing. ‘I can cook you know, you just distracted me.’

‘I know Rich, remember when you used to take meals with you and claim they were your mother’s?’

Richie stares at Eddie shell shocked, completely surprised that Eddie knew about his secret;

‘You thought I didn’t know, come on now Richie, you’re not in love with a guy for years and don’t notice his telltales of lying.’

Later, when they ordered their food and they’re watching tv, Eddie catches Richie glancing at the cafetiere.

‘Don’t even think about it’, he warns coldly.

‘Oh come on Eds, you have to let me try to use it some time. It could be like a teacher roleplay, I’ll be the student and you’ll be the hot teacher.’ Richie winks at Eddie like he just won something.

‘Yeah not a change in hell asshole.’

#reddie #reddie imagine #My writing #reddie fl #adult reddie #richie tozier #eddie kaspbrack #EDDIE LIVES #reddie fluff #it chapter two imagine #it chapter 2

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kpoprunsmylifenow · 5 years

Text

I Wanna Make You Mine Chapter 5

Getting to B.A.P.’s base, you were sweating. You hope Jihun had made it. You knew that Zelo would protect all of his members with his life, along with Yongguk, but you hoped it would never come to that. Walking in, the two idiot henchmen were behind you, you made sure to clear the rooms as you went. Finding a few bodies and then finding Jongup patching up Heejun.

“Are you okay?” You ran towards them. Jongup, shocked, pulled his gun on you, but relaxed when he saw that it was you.

“Sorry.” He turned back as you kept an eye on the door. “Everyone’s fine. The boys got here just in time.” You sagged in relief, running your hand through Heejun’s hair. You took a minute for that to sink in, your anxiety calming down some. You looked at the 2 henchman.

“Go get the bodied and pile them in one place.” And then you went in search of the rest of them. You found them in the kitchen, which had turned into a small infirmary. Jihun had a few grazes and so did Seoham. Dongwon and Inseong were patching up Yongguk and Zelo. You walked over to Himcham and Daehyun who were leaned against the counters. Leaning beside them, Daehyun leaned against you.

“Thanks.” He said quietly.

“Your welcome Dae. I’m just glad y’all are okay.” You ran your fingers through Himcham’s hair. “I was at a meeting when Zelo called.” You took a deep breath. “Thankfully we were basically done and I left as soon as I hung up.” Looking over to Yongguk, you saw him asleep. And it was probably a good thing since he had 3 gunshot wounds. Zelo was almost as bad as him. He had a couple of gunshot wounds, that had thankfully went right through so there was no bullet that needed to be dug out, and a couple of grazes on his cheek and shoulders. Grimacing, you walked over to Inseong and Dongwon, checking on them. They didn’t have anything too bad, just a couple of grazes and a few bruises. You checked the rest of the house, knowing that you’re going to be extra cautious for a while. You went and checked on the guys who were getting the bodies, seeing that they were almost done.

“After that’s done, go check around the house and see if you can find anything about the people who attacked.” They nodded and you went back to Heejun and Jongup.

“Can you help me get him to the kitchen?” Jongup asked as Heejun blinked sleepily.

“Sure. Come on Junnie, up ya get.” Pulling one of Heejun’s arms over your shoulder. Getting him to the kitchen, you sat him down on a chair, putting his feet in another chair. You grabbed a hand towel and put it against his non hurt shoulder for him to lean against while he slept. The remaining, conscious people decided to do rounds of keeping guard. It was nearing midnight when you heard something. Getting up out of the chair, you nudged Dongwon.

“I heard something, come on.” You whispered. He nodded, silently checking if he still had ammo.

“Let’s go.” He whispered and you both left to investigate the noise.

---

You’d let Yongguk stay at one of your safe houses for a few days while he worked on getting a new place ready. You’d barely slept at all since you’d gotten back from VAV’s base, it mostly being having no time between getting their shipment ready and finding the rest of A.C.E. You went down to the kitchen to grab something to eat and some water to find Inseong down there already.

“Hey Seongie.” You greeted.

“Hi Y/N.” He smiled. “What are you still doing up? You should be sleeping.”

“So should you.” You grabbed some stuff to make a PB&J. “Why are you still up?”

“I asked first.” You laughed.

“I haven’t been sleeping well since I got back.” You grimace and grabbed a water bottle before walking towards the door. “What about you?”

“I was checking on Heejun.” You nodded.

“Is he okay?”

“He’s fine. He’s gonna be sore for a while since he had an exit wound, but it shouldn’t be anything some pain killers shouldn’t handle.” You nodded. Lately you’d been feeling like all the work you've been doing as leader wasn’t enough. With all the things that had happened lately, it’d hit you harder than it had before.

In your office you opened your computer and started to shift through some emails you’d gotten. One was from Zelo. You were confused. Zelo never emailed you, he’d always text you. Opening it, you realized that it was actually supposed to go to Yongguk. And what was inside was even worse than you imagined.

---

The past few days you’d been very quiet. You knew Zelo had meant to send you the email when Zelo had texted you a few minutes later asking if you’d gotten his email. Jihun could tell that you knew something, but you knew it’d be better if no one else but you knew that only you knew. Jihun had asked why you’d been so quiet, but you just brushed it off. Giving the excuse that you were tired, which was true. You were absolutely exhausted.

Getting home from a meeting with some of your lower henchmen you laid on your couch, a massive migraine coming up. You heard your door open and close quietly, you gripped your pistol, peaking open an eye. You relaxed a little, seeing that it was Heejun.

“Hi Junnie.” You whispered. He smiled and you scooted over so that he could lay beside you.

“Hi.” You cuddled into his chest. “What’s been bothering you lately?” Sighing, you shook your head. “We all know that something’s bothering you.” He ran his fingers through your hair. “And it’s not just the tiredness. You know something.” You sighed again. “And that’s two sighs in the past minute.”

“I do know something.” You paused and buried yourself farther into his chest. “But I think it’s best for me to keep it to myself right now while I figure out what’s going on.” You rubbed your eyes, silently scolding yourself. You could sleep later, you needed to know what the fuck Yongguk was doing.

“Why are you getting up?” Heejun tried to hold onto you.

“I need to do some work. You can lay in here while I get it done.” You struggled to get up with Heejun protesting, but you eventually got it.

“Y/N!” Heejun whined as you finally got off the couch. “Just take a 10 minute nap. I’ll even set an alarm, I know you can’t sleep through it.” You shake your head, throwing a blanket towards him.

“You need to sleep so you can heal.” You shot a look at him. “I’ll be okay. I was planning on asking Inseong to go grab some sleep meds from store so that I can sleep tonight.” He nodded and sent a text to Inseong before he curled up on your huge couch for a nap.

---

After Heejun had left to go see Inseong, and Dongwon sat with you while you both ate dinner, you were still talking with Zelo about the specifics of the plan he had. He told you about their plan to befriend this group, yet he hadn’t said which one in the beginning. You’d been helping him with this for a while now, thinking that it’d be BTOB or Infinite.

Zelo then explained how he’d get a smaller group to attack that group, wanting their attention to be focused on dealing with them so that they could strike. Wanting them to think they’re going to help the ‘friend’ group, before actually killing them.

Leaning back in your chair, you closed your eyes. A few tears slipped out from your frustration and pain that your best friend would do this to you. But then you remember one of the things your brother had said when he’d started learning from your father. That everything in this business has a consequence, even the good things. And usually after a good streak, the bad comes eventually. You also remember when your brother would give you encouragement when you were struggling. ‘It’s okay. Take some deep breaths and then try again. It’s alright to take as much time as you need to be okay. Not everyone can be at over 75% all the time.’ And then he would wink, or tickle you, to make you laugh. You brought your knees up and cried for a little while, making sure your door was locked. It was probably an hour later when you felt a little better. Taking some deep breaths and going to get some water. Outside your door was a bottle of sleeping meds, a sticky note on it, and some water. The sticky note was obviously Inseong’s writing.

I’ll be back in 30 minute intervals to check on you. I heard you crying earlier (and yes I’ll take it to my grave). Get some sleep boss.

You smiled and saw Inseong peek out from his room. Knowing that he was going to check on you, you left the door cracked and took the appropriate amount of medicine before laying on the same couch Heejun had taken a nap on earlier. Right when you were almost asleep you heard Inseong come in. You felt him run his fingers through your hair, pulling the hair tie out so that it wouldn’t cause your head to hurt in the morning.

“I’m sorry you’re struggling.” He whispered. “I know you’ve been having to deal with so much after your brother died.” He paused. He’d been super close with your brother. “I know he’d be proud of you though, seeing you whip idiots into shape with a meer look.” You could tell he was smiling softly, remembering when your brother would do the same thing. “You two are a lot alike.” When you felt him start to get up, you grabbed his hand. You knew Inseong wouldn’t leave you. “Alright, only till you fall asleep. I need to go check on Heejun in an hour.”

He placed your head on his lap, running his hand through your hair to calm you. And right when you were on the cusp of sleep, he started humming. And you got the best sleep of your life since your brother had died.

Waking up the next morning, you found an email from Zelo.

Now it was time to find out why the fuck Yongguk was planning on attacking you.

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the-fiction-witch · 5 years

Text

She’s Not-

REAL LIFE: COUPLE: ASA BUTTERFEILD X READER RATING: ADORABLE

NORMAL FIC

I sighed flicking through channels when there was a loud knock on my door so I got up going over and opening it, it was y/n "Ohh hey y/n" I smiled "Hey asa, you didn't forget did you?" She asks sweetly "Uhhhh.... No" I lie "Babysit-" she began "Babysitting liza" I finish "totally different forget" I laugh "All weekend?" She asks "Yeah of course" I nod slightly panicking when did I agree to this? "Okay, well all her stuff is in the car" she smiles so I went and helped her with the crib, the highchair, the toys, the pram, the boxes of stuff she needs and Liza herself. "So the note pad has all her feeding and nap times, the food is in the bag Sam's as clean nappies and milk" she explains "Before you run off.... Is it formula she's on?" I ask "No breast milk" she says "make sure to hold her in like a nursing position when you feed her...else she will vomit on you" she smiles "you'll be fine" she smiles "see you two Monday" she smiles handing Liza go me and going off to her car "Yeah bye y/n" I smile waving her car goodbye "have a nice time at.... whenever your going" I sighed "well... Guess it's just you and me Liza" I smiled and she vomited on my shoes and began crying "great start."

I woke to my alarm and the loud crying so I sighed getting out of bed and rubbing my eyes to try and wake up a little more going over to little Liza's crib picking her up cuddling her close to my chest and giving her head a kiss "come on Liza breakfast" I yawn resting her mostly on my shoulder as I walked out to the kitchen and got her bottle from the fridge shaking it up a little and warming it up till it was warm enough while also trying to make my own cup of tea once I was done I sat on my chair and gave Liza her bottle and had a sip of my tea "Hu... I think the milk is starting to turn" I complain "Ga ba" she giggled "Yeah I thought that" I sigh "you drunk that milk fast?" I ask noticing her bottle was almost empty no way she drunk all that, I've had one sip of my tea and my mug is smaller then her bottle I dipped my tea again noticing again that odd taste in the milk and looking to Liza and her finished bottle "oh god I didn't.... Did I?" I said in shock "I need got the milk out the fridge..." I mutter "I just had breast milk tea." I said in shock "I made y/n boob milk tea" "Pab la" she giggled "You could say that again Liza." I said "it's not bad... Tastes better then almond milk" I shrug finishing my tea.

I stretched as I locked the door taking little Liza out in her pram I had to get some shopping do I walked down the busy streets with her sat looking at me Hugging her little stuffie lamp rattle alot of people looked at me funny but they always kinda do, as soon as I got in the store stopping to check my list for stuff I needed "sir you can't have a pram in the store" a employee told me "Why?" I ask "Security risk" she says "you'll have to put your daughter in the trolley" she says "Ohh no she's not-" I began but she walked off so I sighed getting Liza out and into one of those little seats in the big trolleys she didn't look happy away from her pram so I got all her toys and blankets in the home she would go to sleep and I managed to get one before "Aaaaaaawwwwww what a beautiful baby!" a woman smiled almost pushing me out the way to see Liza, unfortunately waking her and making her start to gently cry "aww she has your eyes" she smiles "Ohh uhh she's not-" I began "Aww better get that little one to bed" she smiles before walking off so I sighed making sure Liza wouldn't start Badly crying almost putting her back to sleep and carrying on with my shopping "Asa hey!" I heard my friend Isaac smile as I turned a corner and he spotted me "I haven't seen you in ages must be over a year since I saw you, how you doing?" He cheered "Shhhh" I warn him "What's up?" He asked "I just got her to sleep" I sighed luckily we didn't wake her "Ooooohhh" he smirked "what?" I asked "Who's the mummy asa?" He smirked "Y/n" I shrug "Oooooh" he smirked "What? What is that noise for?" I asked "You and y/n got busy... Asa and y/n getting down and dirty" he laughs "Hu? Ooohh no no no no" I tell him "I'm not her dad, I'm just babysitting while y/n's away for work" I explain "Yeah... I believe you" he smirked "Isaac, liza is not mine" I tell him "But she has your eyes," he smiles "Why does everyone keep saying that?" I sighed "So who is the daddy?" He asked "No idea, y/n hasn't said" I shurg "why did you think she was mine?" I ask "I haven't seen you in like over a year mate, and when I do see you again, I spot you clearly very tried, with a cute little baby girl, it's not hard to make the leap you created a child durring the interval" he explained "hey, when you finish up I'll buy you a coffee or in the cafe" he suggested "Okay Isaac, thanks" I laugh going and finishing my shopping I packed it all up and put Liza back in her pram to Sit in the cafe often rocking her gently to keep her asleep while I had my coffee and chatted with Isaac till she started crying and the whole shop looked at me like I was Satan himself "Ohh, somebodies upset about something" Isaac sighed "Yeah, it's milk time" I sighed checking my phone and picking Liza up keeping her on my lap as I got a milk bottle for her making sure it was warm enough for her "here you go little Liza some of mummies tastey milk" I smile to her as I gave her the bottle and she happily began drinking "Wait? Mummies? So... That's y/n's?" He asked "Isaac, no" I warn "What?" He asks "Your not having any, she would kill me you pervert" I sighed "I need every last drop, the big bottle y/n gave me is all I have till she gets back" I sigh "When is she back?" He asks "Monday night" I sighed as Liza finished up so I put the bottle away and tried to tuck her in her pram but she just cried so I sighed letting her cuddle with me "Bal ma" she giggled "Yes Liza bal ma" I laugh giving her a little kiss on the head "What does that mean?" He asks "No idea" I shrug

I yawned as I rocked little Liza to sleep in my arms after her feeding almost falling asleep myself Knock knock Came from my door "Who is it?" I whisper yelled "It's y/n" she answers back "It's open, I'm rocking Liza" I tell her and she door gently opened and y/n came in and smiled "what?" I ask "You two are so cute" she smiles taking a little picture of me with Liza "how'd it go?" She asks as I out Liza in her crib "Uhh not bad, she's fine I think, she seems happy" I explain "Humm...she does seem happy, your a good babysitter asa" she smiles giving me a cuddle "Thanks, I'm happy to, if you ever want a couple days off, I'm just down the road after all" I explain "I think I will take you up on that offer" she smiles starting to pack up Liza's stuff "uhh asa?" She asks "Yeah?" I asked going to see her in the kitchen "This is more milk when you should have used" she says "Ohh uhh yeah, I maybe have uhhh.... accidentally made a cup of tea with it" I answer "Ohh..." She says in shock "okay" she nods a little worried once everything was in her car she cuddled little Liza in her arms tightly just as she began to wake "okay Liza say bye bye tell Asa bye bye" she smiles "Dada" she giggled "bye bye dada" she giggled "Liza no-" she began "Bye bye Liza" I laugh giving her head a kiss and ticking her a little "it's okay, she can call me that if she wants to" I blush "Okay, bye asa" y/n smiled giving me a kiss and going off home with liza.

#Asa butterfeild #asa #asa smut #asa imagine #asa butterfeild smut #asa butterfeild imagine #asa butterfeild imagines #asa butterfeild fic #asa butterfield

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robininthelabyrinth · 5 years

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Fic: An Internal Affair - Chapter 21 (Ao3 link)

Fandom: The Flash Pairing: Leonard Snart/Barry Allen

Summary: Leonard Snart, the CCPD Captain of Internal Affairs, is known as Captain Cold for a very good reason: He hates corrupt cops with a merciless vengeance, and once you’re on his list, you’re in serious trouble.

His next target?

A CCPD lab tech named Barry Allen who’s developed a suspicious habit of disappearing at random intervals.

—————————————————————————————————

"Again, Lenny?" old Mad Magpie cackles when Len limps up to her at her usual post near the CCPD. Most members of the cardboard brigade wouldn't care to be so close to so many cops, or wouldn't dare, but Magpie is an old homeless veteran who lived in Gotham before coming to haunt the streets of Central, and she doesn't fear much of anything. Len's been sending Danvers over with hot chocolate on a regular basis, though, so Magpie's usually willing to talk to him. "Don't you have any self-preservation?"

"Don't mention it," Len says. "Really. Don't."

"You can fool that secretary of yours -"

"Admin assistant," Len interjects.

"- and you can fool that new boytoy of yours, but you can't fool old Magpie," she says. "You've ripped those stitches again."

"Like I said," Len says, suppressing the wince of pain at the mere mention. He's pretty sure he's bleeding - getting thrown around by a murderous speedster was definitely not on his physical therapist's list of approved activities - but he's wearing enough layers and stayed in lurching forward movement enough that no one has had a chance to notice it yet. "Don't mention it."

She laughs. "I knew it," she says. "Can't fool an old bird of prey like me! I don't tell people things till they ask. But if anyone asks, I ain't promising nothing. Now, I see you're back to your wicked old ways, hanging around with that Allen boy - back together now, are we?"

"Yeah."

"Oh, good on you. He's cute. And I bet he goes pretty fast, if you know what I mean."

Len arches his eyebrows. He knows exactly what she means, and she's not advising him on how long it'll take to get Barry into bed. "You selling that info?"

"Hell no," Magpie cackles. "Like I said - he's cute!"

"Good. Lemme know if anyone does start selling that, will you?"

"You'll get first word, Lenny. You've been a good enough customer to us all these years, paying more than your fair share and never turning us in for vagrancy; we can do you that much."

"Much obliged," Len says. "Hey, if I manage to surprise even you, do I get a bonus going forward?"

She arches her eyebrows at him. "I'm listening," she allows.

"Mick's better."

"I already heard that he's awake," she sniffs.

"Not awake. Better. See?"

She squints around him in the direction he's gesturing at. Len can see the exact moment she spots Mick standing there, looking healthy as a horse (well, with some nasty burn scars, but those look years old already) and arguing cheerfully with Iris and Danvers about something or another.

"Well, I'll be," she marvels. "Yeah, Lenny, you get a bonus for that - assuming that being healthy means he's gonna be cooking up his usual free-for-all July 4th bash this year. News of that getting uncanceled'll buy quite a lot."

"It's definitely on," he assures her. "Assuming we haven't all been murdered by the Families, of course."

"True that," she sniggers. "Now, what're you going to do to stop them?"

"As much as I can," Len says honestly. "But for that I need help - you remember when I was looking for intel on speedster stuff?"

"Yeah?"

"I need to find a speedster. The bad one, in yellow; he was at STAR Labs, but we don't know where he is now -" Danvers checked STAR Labs and reported no success. "- and we need to put him down if we're gonna put any of this down."

"He's the one doing the disappearances?"

"He's the one doing the hits," Len agrees, since technically Barry caused some of the disappearances. Though he supposes that if you think about it a certain way, Wells was behind those, too, in an indirect sort of way... "Can you yank your chain and get me an answer?"

"Don't need to ring up the community, Lenny," she says, grinning. "You know they used to call me the Oracle, back in Gotham? Always knew what was going on, I did, and it's the same now: I already know where he is."

"And I'm guessing I won't like the answer?"

"Come now, you robbed him of his revenge or whatever; where else is he gonna go other than Central’s home away from home for the criminally inclined?" she asks, amused. "The place where everyone knows your name - and record."

Len experiences a distinct sinking feeling in his stomach. "Ah," he says. "Iron Heights."

Central City's one and only maximum security prison.

Len's been in a few times, to ensure his cover was appropriately legit. He doesn't remember it very fondly.

"He's getting jealous, he is," Magpie says complacently. "You've got an army, the Families've got an army, who doesn't got an army? He doesn't. But he can fix that."

No kidding.

Especially since - and Len is remembering this with a wince - the metas from Barry's secret prison have just been transferred there pending trial, along with the specifications of the Accelerator needed to maintain the anti-meta-powers effect of their cells.

They'd even recruited Ramon to advise on the process of transferring the tech, with the recommendation that his cooperation in converting one of the wings (now dubbed the Metahuman Wing) would go some significant distance to reducing his eventual sentence.

Len hadn't been involved with that personally, being busy with Mick's recovery at the time, but he'd set one of the DAs he'd always liked - an ardent prisoners' rights advocate in her previous life - on the task of making sure Ramon gave adequate thought to how what they already had in place in STAR Labs could be expanded such that the metas could enjoy their constitutional rights, however limited.

Len’s not entirely clear on the details, but whatever it was, it was only a temporary solution. Ramon is reportedly working furiously on developing some sort of meta-dampening cuffs that seem significantly more humane.

All well and good in theory, yes, but it's now occurring to Len that what he saw as a grotesque human rights' violation, and the so-called Team Flash saw as a temporary convenience, Wells saw as more of -

Well, as a useful storage container.

As in, where you store things for later use.

(The image of tiny metahumans being placed into a pantry and pulled out at need by a giant Wells is deeply disturbing. Len sure is glad that no one's invented some sort of shrink ray...)

"Thanks, Magpie," Len says, shaking his head to help him get rid of the unwanted mental images. "Appreciated as always."

"I'll let my people in Iron Heights know to expect you," Magpie offers. "There's always a few old cardboards in there for some reason or another. If you need something pulled, you just ask. You've got that bonus to spend now."

"Hopefully not necessary," Len assures her. "But thanks."

The resources of Len's task force, as they stand, are quite few in number, but fairly decent nonetheless: Len himself (mostly useful for tactics given the current state of his body), Mick (and his heat gun), Barry (and his powers), Danvers (and her powers), Detective Thawne (who Wells won’t kill), Iris, Snow and Ramon.

Of the latter four, Thawne and Iris are trained in conventional weapons, and Ramon has invented some sort of vibration-based gun he claims can stun people in a humane matter (he emphasized that three times over - whatever that DA told him has clearly stuck). Snow doesn't have any offensive capabilities, but she's a doctor with some emergency care training, and Len's not about to turn that down.

Especially given the fact that if his side doesn't stop bleeding soon, he's going to need some of that training to be employed on him.

"You good?" Barry asks when Len rejoins them.

"Peachy," Len tells him, and ignores the way Mick suddenly focuses in on him. Stupid tell, using a word he only uses when things are not, in fact, good; he should've remembered not to use it around Mick. "We have a location for Wells: he was last seen in the vicinity of Iron Heights."

"Wait," Ramon says. "Where we just put all our metas?"

"He was keeping them on purpose," Snow exclaims, realizing. She's not slow, that one; just a bit naïve. "They were always going to be Plan B - except now they're in Iron Heights, not STAR Labs, so he needs to go get them."

"And the rest of Iron Heights if he can," Len confirms, shifting a little bit to a more comfortable position on his crutches. "Barry, Danvers - can you take us all to the little hill right outside the Heights? One-by-one should be fine."

"Boss and I go first," Mick suddenly says. "Then the rest. Let's go."

Before Len can say anything, they're in sudden transit.

It takes about twenty seconds to reach their destination, which Len suspects is a polite attempt to go nice and slow by the speedsters but which only makes his side and leg throb.

Then he and Mick are alone, standing in the overarching shadow cast by the hulking hexagonal pit of despair that is Iron Heights.

Everything seems quiet from here, but that could be an illusion.

"Mick -" Len starts.

"You're injured but don't want to sit out the fight," Mick says. "I know."

Mick always does. Best partner ever.

"S'not why I wanted to talk to you, since I know I won't be able to change your stubborn-ass mind on it," Mick continues. "I wanted to check in on what I said earlier."

"What part?"

"About us still being partners. I mean, now that you're a cop and all that."

"Mick, as long as you still want to be partners, we're partners," Len says firmly. "I wasn't kidding about not picking the job over you again. If you don't wanna be partners with a pig, I get it. It's fine. I'll just quit my job."

Mick snorts. "Twenty years undercover and you'll just quit? Now?"

"Hey, it means I've got a decent resume, don't it?"

"Ex-thief, ex-cop, please hire me -"

"I'm sure that set of skills appeals to someone -"

Mick's laughing.

Len likes it when Mick laughs. He's missed it.

"Nah," Mick says. "Don't quit, not unless you want to. Hunting down bad cops is perfect for you. And I'll figure out some way that I can still be your partner."

Len grins at him. "Sounds like a plan, partner."

"Just do me a favor and don't die, boss."

"Says the guy who just woke up from a coma?"

"Hey, I got magic-future-tech-healed by the bad guy, I'm fine. You, on the other hand, are doing your healing the good old fashioned way, except you keep tearing your stitches."

"Shut up before anyone else gets here and hears you."

"I heard him," Danvers says, floating a few inches above them and still holding a dangling Ramon in one hand. "And I'm very disappointed in you."

"Crap," Len says. "Listen, Snow can give me a patch job, but there's no way I'm letting you guys go into Iron Heights without me, got it?"

Snow gets dropped off next. By Barry. Without another word.

"You're in trouble now," Mick crows. "Skirt's got moxie."

"Traitor," Len says, but it turns out Snow can in fact patch him up pretty quickly - a staple gun, some bandages, and a dermaplastic seal, plus instructions to keep from twisting too much if possible so that his back brace can try to keep his spine from popping out of place or something - so it turns out all right in the end.

While they're doing that, though, the rest of the team stares at Iron Heights.

"God, I hate this place," Mick says.

"It's - quieter than I thought it'd be," Danvers says.

"Have you never been?" Barry asks. "I - well, you know, with my dad - I've been plenty of times."

"Hate to break it to you, but you're the odd one there, Barry," Ramon says. "I'd never been here before I came to help install the meta dampening tech."

"Really? You invented…?"

"No, no," Ramon says, looking embarrassed. "I haven’t had time to come up with something new. What we did was basically just port over a mini-Accelerator, looping around the walls of the place – luckily the hexagonal hallways around the outside that the guards use for patrols is close enough to being round to work. It works on the same set of principles as the Particle Accelerator in STAR Labs does."

"Any chance that it'll block Wells' powers, too?" Iris asks.

"No, not unless he goes into one of the cells and closes the door. The entire system's not even noticeable until everyone's locked away - not enough energy. We're just running electrical energy through it, not accelerated particles, so it doesn't quite have the same effect."

"Probably for the best," Thawne says. "One Particle Accelerator explosion is more than enough."

"Yeah, that's true..."

“Does Wells know about what you’ve done?” Danvers asks curiously. “With the mini-Accelerator, I mean?”

Ramon frowns, considering it. “No, I don’t think so,” he says slowly. “This was after the whole chest-in-hand – er, that is, hand-in-chest –”

“Her eyes are up here, buddy,” Iris jokes.

Ramon flushes. “It was just a slip of the tongue!”

“I bet you want to slip someone some tongue –”

“Iris, leave him alone,” Barry says, hiding a smile. “Be nice. You’re making poor Kara blush.”

“He’s not my type,” Danvers says primly. “Sorry, Cisco.”

“I’m not actually interested,” he says crossly. “I like my women a bit more – dangerous.”

“You know Kara can lift cars, right? And fly? And probably crush your head like a nut? How is she not dangerous?”

“An aura of danger, you know what I mean…wait, how’d we get on this subject?”

“I don’t know, but I want off,” Thawne says dryly. “You were saying about whether Wells knows about the mini-Accelerator?”

“Yeah, right. No, I don’t think so. When the police showed up to STAR Labs, he wasn’t there, and they had me shut off the surveillance system before we started moving tech around. I certainly didn’t tell him, and I don’t think Caitlin did –”

“Wasn’t even aware of it,” Snow says, still focusing on Len.

“Right. So, yeah, no. I don’t think so."

"Okay, you're as good as I can get you," Snow tells Len. "Now up you go; we need you to tell us what the plan is."

"There is no 'plan'," Len says, getting back up. The painkillers Snow had brought with her are amazing. "We've gone well into the stage of the plan where everything goes off the rails."

"Len," Barry says, mildly censorious.

"What?" Len asks. "It's true. You want a plan? Okay. Plan is: we go inside, find Wells, subdue Wells. If necessary, fight other people in the process."

"I think I was happier without knowing that that was the plan," Ramon mutters.

"Second door forward?" Mick asks, focusing on practicalities. "That's the least guarded - though I gotta admit I never thought I'd be using that to break in."

"Yeah," Len says wryly. "We live in interesting times."

Getting into Iron Height isn't hard - they know where the door is, they know how it's opened, and Len can pop it in under thirty seconds (how's that for "out of practice", Danvers?) - but the lack of any security on the inside is a very bad sign.

"Dead?" Thawne asks, his face set. He's taking this ancestor stuff very seriously.

"Maybe, maybe not," Ramon says. "He's got superspeed and this is a prison, right? He might've just put the guards in the cells."

"Probably the only way they're going to survive a massive prison riot," Mick says. "Speaking of, I hear noise - main hall's this way."

"Is that the riot?" Iris asks. "Not to borrow Kara's words from earlier, but that's a lot quieter than I expected."

"It is," Len says, equally puzzled. "Let's go find out why."

Sure enough, the main hall was full to bursting with prisoners - far more than get let out in any one shift - but they're not really rioting. More like milling around confusedly.

Len and Mick share a perturbed look.

Still, there's only one way to find out what's up, so Len hobbles over to the first prisoner he even vaguely recognizes and smacks him on the leg with his crutch to get his attention. "What's going on?" he demands.

"Snart?" the guy - a con called Joey Monteleone, but mostly nicknamed Tarpit for reasons Len has never wanted to learn - asks, blinking at him. "Ain't you a cop now?"

"One with no sense of self-preservation," Mick growls. He might be right; Len'd totally forgotten that he can't just ask people (well, criminals) things anymore. "That a problem?"

Tarpit considers for a second. "It true you got a job fucking up corrupt cops for a living? Instead of snagging cons?"

"Yeah, it's true," Len says cautiously. That doesn't sound like the prelude to a call for lynching. "Not really interested in a job snagging cons, not unless they're doing something real bad where I can see 'em. Same rules as before, really."

"Cool," Tarpit says, then suddenly turns around and shouts, "Hey, everyone! Snart's here! He'll know what's up!"

And suddenly everyone is turning to look at him, the room breaking out into whispers.

Len sees Barry and Danvers both tense up, ready to run him away, but he waves at them to hold off. No one seems violent - yet.

In fact, most of the whispers that Len can hear don't concern the fact that he is (and was) a cop; they're more focused on his career as a very good freelance thief.

A very good thief that was pretty well known for not being affiliated with the Families.

"Listen, Snart, it true what they're saying about the Families taking over?" one of the cons asks.

"I mean," Len says, nearly falling over with surprise when Tarpit pushes him up onto one of the tables so as to better see and be seen, "I don't plan on letting 'em, but they’re certainly trying their best."

"And there's riots in the streets?" another one asks. "Anti-Family riots?"

"Well, yeah -"

"And they're calling in their cards? All of 'em?"

"Whatever they can, sure. But there's an amnesty -"

"An amnesty?"

"Only for anyone manipulated by the Families in the lead-up to this," Len warns. "Or, I guess, involved in the riots afterwards."

He's a little bewildered by the fact that everyone keeps looking to him for answers in this impromptu little Q+A.

Luckily, in his time of need, Mick is there for him.

"Hey, assholes!" he bellows. "You know what that means? That means no extra sentences for anyone fighting against the Families, and the Families too busy to call in any cards they have on you. So tell me - who wants to go fuck up some Families?"

The roar of enthusiasm is very near enough to flatten Len backwards.

Ah, Central City.

Where even the criminal underworld hates organized crime.

Len's never felt more at home.

It helps that the whispers (not really whispers, now) are about Len's recognized skill at prison escapes that don't end badly.

There are also, here and there, some comments about not wanting to work for that, quote, "yellow Family fucker".

Right.

"Can someone point me to where the asshole in yellow is?" Len calls. "And in the meantime, let's get you guys outta here - we've popped one door, but let's try to avoid a riot - nice and orderly exit, that's the trick of it - and while we're at it, does anyone know where the guards have gone..?"

The guards, it turns out, are in fact locked into the same cells the prisoners have been liberated from, in what Len assumes was meant as a cruel bit of irony but which probably ensured that they weren't murdered by vengeful criminals.

The rest of the exodus is pretty swiftly organized - Len makes them pair up in the buddy system, using their cellies as buddies, in order to make it a bit less chaotic, and it works like a charm - and before anyone really understands what's happening, he's being helped off the table and whisked off back to his task force to focus on their Wells problem as the criminals file out of the prison.

"We've been discussing the issue," Iris tells Len when he rejoins them. "The prisoners don't know where Wells is, but we're pretty sure we do."

"Oh? Where? The meta wing?"

"No," Ramon says. "We figure he won't want to risk being stuck in any of those cells, just in case; he probably got the metas out of there and took them with him."

"Took them with him - where?"

"Wing C," Barry says, voice unusually grim. "The low-security wing."

Len frowns.

"That's where Barry's dad is," Iris says, equally grim.

Ah.

Old Doc Allen. The good man, who was framed and sentenced to prison for a crime he did not commit - by Wells.

Who is obsessed with Barry.

Not good.

"Right," Len says. "So this is probably a trap, but we're going to have no choice but to spring it. All agreed?"

"With any luck, Wells won't be expecting all of us, and not this fast," Thawne says. "He's a planner, but we've thrown his plans off the rails; he's playing it all by ear now."

"Just means he's desperate," Mick says. "Desperate men are dangerous."

"Still, I don't see that we have a choice," Len says. "Let's go - er, in the interests of speed, Danvers, could you..?"

He ends up getting a piggyback ride from her while Mick carries his crutches.

It's humiliating.

"I could probably carry you bridal style," Barry offers oh-so-innocently. "If you wanted."

"Just because Mick has my weapons -"

"Crutches aren't weapons," Ramon objects.

"You'd be surprised," Danvers and Iris chorus.

"- doesn't mean I'm taking any lip from you," Len finishes, ignoring them. "So shut it."

Barry proceeds to mime zipping his mouth shut, though that doesn't get rid of the grin.

Getting close to their destination does that.

"His cell is this way," Barry says, looking down a deserted corridor. "Supposedly. But -"

"He's definitely not there," Danvers says. "Sorry, Barry. The only people here are in the main hall."

"How do you know that?" Ramon asks.

"Uh," Danvers says. "Would you believe me if I said X-ray vision?"

"What," Len, who knows what Danvers sounds like when she's being evasive, says. "Really?"

"As it happens..."

"We talking medical level x-rays," Mick asks interestedly, "or can you peep under peoples' clothing -?"

"No!"

"Quick denial," Mick says wisely. "You know what that means, right, boss?"

"Boss! Make him stop!"

"It means 'leave off teasing until we’re not in the middle of a firefight', Mick," Len says mildly. "We're checking the main hall next. Everyone got weapons out?"

"Except you," Snow says. "You're not fighting - no, not even on the crutches!"

"I'll keep that in mind in the event I have a choice," Len says dryly, getting off of Danvers' back and leaning back on his crutches. "But I'll try to stick to the back. We ready?"

"Ready," they chorus.

And then they walk into a trap.

Wells is lounging on an impromptu throne constructed shoddily out of prison tables, smirking at them, and all around him are the metas Len vaguely recognizes as being part of Barry's kidnapping.

They probably all bear a grudge.

A very reasonable grudge, but perhaps a less-than-timely one.

All but one of the current inhabitants of the main hall are metas. Only one exception: a cage, constructed out of twisted cell bars, placed immediately to Wells' left, and in that cage sits a terrified but defiant-looking Doc Allen.

Definitely a trap.

"Welcome, my friends, to my little hell on earth," Wells says. His smirk fades. "Kill them! Kill them all!"

The metas charge forward.

As the guy bringing up the rear, Len can see the battlefield unfolding almost immediately.

Barry disappears, replaced by a streak of yellow lightning, and a second later Wells, too, disappears, and the yellow and red lightning bolts zip around the room in perfect tandem.

Mardon - Len recognizes him - summons balls of ice into his hands, grinning meanly and throwing them at Thawne. Not a surprise, really; Thawne's Joe West's partner, and Mardon would know that. Unlike Iris, Thawne's a policeman; Mardon would consider him fair game. Thawne ducks away, shouting something about them not meaning any harm and coming in peace, but Len doesn't lay high odds on that approach actually working.

One of the metas turns into poison gas - Len remembers hearing about him - and flows forward, gaseous tentacles reaching out to strangle them all, but Danvers takes a deep breath and literally blows him back away from the others, flying forward to confront him one-on-one. It's still a little discordant, seeing his secretary (admin assistant) floating a few inches off the ground, still wearing her red skirt and mesh leggings and that ridiculous puppy-getting-ice-cream sweater she likes so much, her hands balled into fists and a fierce expression on her face, but Len can't help but grin in pride.

A second later, Mick steps up to join her, shouting, "I got this guy, go help the others!" and aiming a burst of his heat gun at Nimbus.

"But -"

"My gun only kills, Skirt, and the boss wouldn't want me to murder prisoners. But this guy's got a death sentence, so he's fair game for me."

Danvers nods her understanding and backs off, turning back to the fight just in time to snag Ramon out of the way of the guy shooting lasers out of his eyes.

Len wonders what name Ramon gave him.

"Deathbolt coming in hot!" Ramon shouts, solving that mystery. "Caitlin, watch out -!"

Snow, who was 'Deathbolt's next target, disappears.

Literally disappears - Baez, the only female-presenting meta (Len hadn't noticed the gender disparity before, he wonders why that is), appears next to Snow in a burst of smoke, grabs her around the waist, and they both disappear and reappear elsewhere, out of the line of fire.

"You saved me!" Snow exclaims.

"You gave me all your old medical textbooks and talked to me while I was stuck in the Accelerator," Baez says. "I'm still pissed at you, but you don't deserve to be - wait, Deathbolt? Why does he get 'Deathbolt' and I get 'Peek-a-Boo'?! What the hell, Ramon?!"

"He has laser eyes!" Ramon shouts back from where Danvers has dropped him off and where he's aiming his vibration gun at Deathbolt. He shoots off a burst, which Deathbolt ducks. "What was I supposed to call him?!"

"I don't care what you call him," Baez says indignantly. "I care what you call me! Peek-a-boo is a kid's game! Or a stripper name! I want a badass name!"

"Is now really the time -" Snow starts.

They seem to have Baez well in hand, and Ramon is now exchanging vibration blasts with Mr. Laser Bolts in a game of stalemate.

Iris -

Iris is fine. She has her hands on her hips and she's scolding a guy three heads taller than her, with steel skin, and much to Len's surprise it's working surprisingly well.

It helps that she clearly tasered him first - he still looks groggy.

Danvers, meanwhile, has flown over to confront the last meta, a relatively non-descript man in black with sunglasses; Len's not sure what his powers are, but he has no doubt Danvers can handle him.

That's all the metas handled.

Barry -

Barry's still not winning. He's keeping pace, barely, and he's keeping Wells' attention on him, but that's it.

Wells is still faster. Wells is still stronger.

Wells is still going to win, and then he's going to murder everyone else in the room at a speed that ensures no one but Barry and maybe Danvers even knows it's happening.

They won't be able to stop him.

This isn't a television show, where Barry could use the power of romantic love (Len), familial love (Iris, Doc Allen), or even platonic love (everyone else) to inspire him to greater speeds to squeak out a win.

Even Danvers' help can only do so much - she's admitted that she's out of practice, and now that Wells is anticipating her, he'll have thought of something.

They have to find another way to stop him.

They need something creative.

They need something out of the box.

They need -

What the hell is Charlie doing here?

He's peeking in through the door, barely visible, but to someone who knows him as well as Len does, he’s unmistakable.

Len hobbles himself over as quick as possible. "What the fuck, Charlie?" he hisses. "Get outta here! Get - why are you even in here?"

"Attempted assault," Charlie says, unperturbed. "Someone I invited home overreacted."

"You tried to eat them, didn't you."

"They didn't say no until we got there," Charlie replies, as if that makes any sense at all. "Anyway, I've got a message for you, from the cardboard brigade. Magpie said it's your bonus."

Len's eyebrows go up. "I'm listening."

"Magpie says to tell you that while most of what the Accelerator did was give people powers, but that there's a few people - joined the brigade recently - that seem to react badly. Like something's been taken away."

"Well, yeah," Len says. "That makes sense, I guess; you win some, you lose some -"

"She also said to tell you that Hartley Rathaway did or reviewed almost all of the construction on STAR Labs' version," Charlie continues. "Along with Francisco Ramon. All the hardware and tech, they knew it all in and out, just the two of them."

Len's about to ask why he cares when it suddenly hits him.

You win some, you lose some.

There's a mini-Accelerator built into Iron Heights. They already know that it dampens meta powers. If they get both Rathaway and Ramon on it, could they jury-rig it to try to undo the grant of powers it gave before?

Len has no idea if that's even remotely possible, but what the hell, it's worth a shot.

"Thanks, Charlie," he says. "Now go away, get somewhere safe."

Charlie disappears down the hallway.

Len turns back, but before he can do or say anything, a giant dining table comes crashing into the wall only a few feet away from him.

Danvers is standing there, her eyes bright red, her expression furious and deadly and aimed at -

Well, mostly aimed at the guy currently cowering at Len's feet.

Non-descript meta man of the unknown powers, now no longer wearing sunglasses indoors like an idiot.

"What did you do?" Len asks the guy.

"My powers," the guy squeaks. "I cause people to become enraged, which distracts them."

"You...you realize there's nothing else here for her to get distracted by, right? And that the major target of her rage would be you?"

"I realize that now!"

"Well, stop it! I need her for something."

"I can't stop it! She'll kill me!"

"At this rate, she's gonna kill you anyway," Len says dryly. "Here, listen, how about this: you undo it and I'll arrest you. Nice, safe police custody pending trial -"

"Deal! Deal!" the guy yelps as Danvers tears another table - longer than she is tall - off the ground, where it had previously been screwed down hard enough to resist the strongest felons' joint attempts to lift it up.

A few seconds later, Danvers is bright red with embarrassment, but not with metahuman-inspired rage. An improvement.

"Can you take him and that Deathbolt guy back to STAR Labs for the time being?" Len asks her. "And then bring me Hartley Rathaway. The cardboard brigade will know where he is."

"Sure," Danvers says, then flies up behind Deathbolt to pop him one on the head - rough, but effective - and disappears a second later.

"I had him on the ropes," Ramon, who most definitely did not, protests.

"Whatever," Len says, gesturing for him to come closer. "Listen, question: can we use the Accelerator here to create another dark matter pulse? Preferably reversed or something, to try to drain people's powers?"

"It doesn't work that way," Ramon objects. "This isn't Back to the Future, you can't just reverse the polarities and -"

He pauses.

"What?" Len asks.

"I mean, you can't do that," Ramon says slowly. "But you can cause another pulse, if you had enough energy. As much as I hate admitting it, Wells built the original Accelerator with the intention of it blowing up with dark matter the second it had enough power, and we didn't have any choice but to use that same design here."

"Wouldn't that just give them more powers?"

"It might," Ramon says. "But the original explosion put Barry into a coma for months, remember? That dark matter's a real shock to the system. Even if it would be giving him more powers rather than cancelling them out - which it might, who knows, dark matter's weird - it still might disable Wells for the time being. That's what you're thinking, right?"

"It is, yeah."

"Good idea, in theory, but two problems. A, I don't know everything about the system -"

"Danvers is going to get Hartley Rathaway," Len tells him, and has the amused pleasure of seeing Ramon pull a face.

"Yeah, that'll work," Ramon says through gritted teeth. "That guy was a total jerk, but he did know his stuff. Stupid, pretentious -"

"You can sue someone for torture and kidnapping, you know."

"- extremely intelligent person whom I'm going to be very nice to and work well with?" Ramon tries.

"That's better," Len says, suppressing a laugh. Now's not the time. "You said two problems - what's the second one?"

"We don't have enough energy to cause a pulse," Ramon says. "It's like I said earlier, we're only running electricity through the system, not -"

"Extremely fast-moving particles?" Len asks archly. "Like, say, those?"

He jabs a finger at the streaks of lightning still bouncing around the room.

One of which is his boyfriend.

"Oh," Ramon says. "Uh, yeah. That'd work. I - wait, wasn't that Wells' plan all along, though? For Barry to run through the Accelerator and power it for him to time travel with?"

"I have no idea," Len says, because the technical aspects of Wells' time travel plan mystify him. "But even if so, he was planning on STAR Labs, not the mini version you installed at Iron Heights - which, according to you, he doesn't even know about."

"Okay, that makes sense," Ramon says. "But - if they're both running through the system to power it, then there won't be any way to stop both of them from getting hit by whatever new pulse we create. Whatever happens to Wells will happen to Barry: they might both lose their powers, or get hurt."

"Yeah," Len says, all humor fading. "I know."

He swallows.

He doesn't want to say it, but he knows it's true.

"That's a risk Barry's just going to have to take," he says. "You know he'd agree, if we asked him. If it meant saving the city -"

"And stopping Wells," Ramon says. "Yeah. You're right."

He squares his shoulders.

"I'll do it."

#coldflash #barry allen #leonard snart #kara danvers #iris west #mick rory #cisco ramon #Caitlin snow #eobard thawne #eddie thawne #Shawna baez #mark mardon #roy bivolo #tony woodward #henry allen #Hartley rathaway #kyle nimbus #my fic #an internal affair

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poweredboredom · 7 years

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Pokemon Sun

It’s good. You should play it. It’s a Pokemon main series game and they’ve been pretty decent with each new addition since coming to the 3DS. The boost in power and interest makes them pretty accessible, fuller versions of Pokemon Colosseum the series has always wanted to be. 3D fights, enjoyable mechanics and enough here that mixes things up to make Sun/Moon worth picking up.

It’s accessible while still being a challenge. Wonderful! But how does it pull it off? Well...

The first thing that comes to mind is that Pokemon, as a series, seems to be desperately trying to grow a personality. In games gone by, things such as stories or characterisation or even dialogue was costly. If you put in a diatribe about man’s inhumanity to man and pokemon alike, you might have to cut out a boss encounter. Give villagers too much to say and you may have to replace an entire town with it as there wasn’t enough on the cartridge. Pokemon lasted as a pretty basic looking RPG for many a generation while stuff like Golden Sun or Megaman Battle Network looked gorgeous in comparison. That pokemon database takes up a lot of space! Modern flash cartridges seem to have an acre of room for all the 3D rendered models and the lush looking environments. It seems there’s room for storytime with Uncle Pokemon.

And you know he has an epic tale to tell! So grab an eevee and listen.

The story told is the one they’ve been telling for years now. Blah blah, you just arrived in town, blah blah, you’re a natural trainer, blah blah, go become a Pokemon Master. The difference is in the flavouring. Not-Hawaii location of the Alola Islands do offer a new lease on life for a tired plotline for your mute-ten year old to run through in the form of The Island Challenge. Instead of battles upon battles, sometimes you have to best a dungeon or photograph ghosts or find then defeat a powerful Totem pokemon. This is neat. While I don’t bemoan the older games too much for their reliance on the gym system, which made each a house where the boss lived while occasionally having a small fetch quest. Usually a fetch quest you need to do in order to face them at all! Here though, Challenge Captains and Kahunas interact with the world. They ingratiate themselves with the islands, which helps sell their supposed knowledge and skill naturally. Previously, Gym Leaders would have to have special quests and things to prove that they did more than just stand in a big house behind some elaborate set of traps.Challenge Captains and Kahunas are part of the community. They run shops or perform for tourists. They’re active in the world, meaning you’ll likely bump into them as you meander around. It works so much better to make them at least a little intimidating when you have to face them yourself.

Weirdly, not everyone gets rich off of unregulated betting on battles with random strangers. Which seems strange to think about but then again, it’s you, the rando wondering around aimlessly with money to burn, that they sell to.

The other thing about the story is that there’s more characters. Somewhat like Pokemon Black/White you begin the game meeting with your new friends. They’re what replaces the ‘Rival’ of older games as they’ll challenge you to battles regularly like a surprise pop quiz. Hau is the trainer that tries to stack himself against you and he’s not bad. He throws regular challenges at you while also being an all right character. I like him but I also feel like he floats around the story at large without any major impact. He’s appealing enough; a hopeful, enthusiastic son of a Kahuna that likes to stuff his face and battle. Fair enough. He doesn’t get in the way but also does make you want to punch him, unlike Blue or N. He, and almost all of the game, is overshadowed by the adventures of Lillie, however, Lillie is positioned as something of an anomaly within this world: someone that abstains from Pokemon Battles. I mean, you assume they’re out there somewhere but it does appear to bite her in the arse regularly. I get the motivation of not wanting to see Pokemon hurt but in a world where the wildlife can, and frequently does, attack at random, you’d think she’d figure out that battles likely arose out of a need to protect herself. She’s fine not to want to take part in battles but we’ve seen time and time again that people should have a pokemon for protection at all times! Oak wouldn’t stand for it, Burch presented a lovely example of why you’d need one and Lille of this game gets attacked by a Spearow flock that she is powerless to fight off or flee from.

Then take one of my pokemon and go get him then! I have running around in circles to do until my pokemon are all level 20! Vital, important work here!

In short, she’s kind of an idiot that can never go anywhere unaccompanied. On the plus side, I can report that she’s quite a sweet person. Her care for Pokemon and everyone around her is genuine, making her somewhat endearing. This marvel was created because Pokemon’s writing has improved considerably. For once, they’re attempting jokes and jabs at things. Hau is a doofus but it plays into his character. Lillie is selfless and that plays into her character too. Their defined, distinct and decently memorable. I wouldn’t call them stellar or fascinating but I didn’t mind meeting them.

This writing buff has permeated everything else, teamed with the 3D presentation to make a greater scope than I thought possible before. Pokemon Sun actually attempts to have ideas greater than ‘bad guys find sleeping monster and fail to control it’. I always found the attempted return of Team Rocket fascinating but Sun throws around the idea of Pokemon from other dimensions, Pokemon gangs, loyalty to family members and when you cross the line as a parent into being a child yourself.

I’m not joking.

While I will not say that this entirely works, I will say that it’s pretty out there for what I was expecting but I am so onboard for more. There’s elements that seem neutered or maybe didn’t connect as it should because it’s all still textboxes on a screen but there were clearly places where I was supposed to care but honestly didn’t.

The game is trying though. You can give it that much.

I can identity one major weakness with it’s story: it’s not mine, it’s Lillie’s. Lillie is the one that grows, goes through an arc and learns the magic of Pokemon Battles, if I might spoil that for just one moment. You are the silent protagonist that has a completely different story happening outside of the conflict between Lillie and the Ultra Beasts. Say what you like but older games placed you at the center of the story. You fought Team Rocket when you tangled with them and they declared you an enemy. You fought Team Aqua or Magma and put and end to their accidental damage to the weather they caused. You changed N’s mind and stopped Team Plasma.

But it’s Lillie that has the final say that puts the bad guys in their place after she sicks you on them. Sun has two stories that meet up then part ways at regular intervals. Do some island challenges, then go fight some story-related goons, then back to the thing you care about because it’s your story. Lillie’s little journey is fine but it feels like something I have little investment in because I don’t get the benefit of advancing there, Lillie does. My reward is being allowed to go back to doing what I want to do; catch pokemon and win challenges. The game will handhold and corral you into their straight path regularly just so that Lille gets her time in the spotlight.

If you could play as Lillie or fight your way through her story, then that would be something. But otherwise, I’m just her powerful trainer friend that she asks to solve her problems for her. And I ain’t that attached to her. A big problem when I’m a character that has no personality at all outside of my clothes.

That deep, unwavering stare forwards as if paralysed in the brain and only capable of that mild, cheery smile. Enjoy that for most of the game.

I love Team Skull though. The jokes and their personality was wonderful. Loved them! Keep them around.

Gameplay wise, it’s mostly the same. There’s a long list of tweaks and changes from previous titles that matter but ultimately don’t bother me so let’s focus on the major changes. The pokemon here are a good selection of old and new that draws on the Hawaiian tie to spirituality and it’s tropical climate. Ghost pokemon have a real spotlight in this place, making it likely they’ll appear in most teams this time around, even giving a welcome return to Phantump and Gastly, two pokemon I had to go find when I heard they were in the game. I like Toxepex, a poisonous anemone that can withstand a beating, and I like Sandigast, a possessed sandcastle that eats life energy. Yes, that’s a thing.

There are also regional versions of old pokemon, mostly in an attempt to make them a touch more appealing. Mostly, they’ve given dark typing to Raticate, Grimer and Meowth. Which is fine to me. I got a lot of use out of the new Grimer as it’s second typing allowed for more varied and interesting tactics. Dark works decently with Poison, I reckon. The other two are fine but are now fatter in design than before..

Pokemon seems to be trying to make it’s new additions stand out more though. And their method this time round is to make their lives a little more miserable. There’s pokemon that feast on others, there’s pokemon said to possess horrid powers but the breakout star for me is Mimikyu. Not only is this pokemon a wonderful Physical Sweeper, it’s appearance is a point of self-awareness. It’s lonely and jealous of Pikachu’s popularity. As such, it wants some of that attention so dresses as Pikachu to garner some love. Aww...Makes me want to hug it till the horrible phantom inside claws my soul.

Who’s my little hellspawn? You are! You are! Who sweeped half the opponent’s team?! You did! Good widdle snookums!

You see? Pokemon is trying to grow a personality. Some of it works.

Gameplay is also trying to aid in this: Pokemon may now call for help. At first, this sounds fine. More pokemon to fight means bigger payouts and you can always throw out a second pokemon to even things up, right? No! If a pokemon does this, you’re now outnumbered two to one. You cannot capture anything while the other pokemon is present. You also have a high chance that if you defeat one of the pokemon, the remaining one will attempt to call for further backup. Some pokemon have a high likelihood of receive help, giving the impression of fighting a pack that’s happy to wait in line for it’s turn. A good mechanic in theory but it drags out fights that you don’t want if it happens. It seems to have been implemented to allow for a new way of finding pokemon (Toxepex can only be found through coming to another pokemon’s aid) and to help make the relatively compact islands feel like their encounters have just as much impact as previous games as patches of long grass are often small with a clear path you can use instead. You have to want to go looking for pokemon to find them, usually, rather than having to wade through long grass that had overgrown paths you needed to cross to get somewhere.

If you can’t force more random encounters, then give them the chance to increase in magnitude instead. Doesn’t entirely work.

You must be the most popular Pokemon in the world if they’re still coming whenever you use ‘Call for Family’! Are you royalty or something?!

What I am in full favour for is Z-Moves. These are special moves that act as an alternative to a Mega Evolution. Personally, I think they’re superior. Yes, having a big, nasty pokemon that boosted it’s stats and became more powerful when you needed it is cathartic. However, it’s limited to select pokemon and does nothing but change the pokemon’s capabilities. Z-Moves can be applied to any pokemon and any ability. While some pokemon have unique Z-Moves, all pokemon are capable of using them. The reason this kicks so much arse is obvious: more powerful move that’s based on the type of z-crystal you give and which move you decide to turn into a decisive finisher. Where this gets interesting is that it can apply to status moves too. Performing Z-Status moves often grants additional effects to the move, such as some moves doubling the effect it has on a pokemon’s stats. Heck, a Z-Move Splash increases that pokemon’s attack by three stages. Not insignificant. So, your choice is now a powerful slam or a tactical edge but you can only choose one per battle. I think this is a lovely idea that means that any pokemon can become worth something, rather than hoping they’ll be given a Mega Evolution.

I like a game that can hand you a new tool to fiddle with and flip what you knew on it’s head.

It helps that they’re all kind of bonkers.

Oh! And there’s this thing where you can pet and feed your pokemon jellybeans. It is adorable. I’m not fully aware of how it benefits you but it’s cute to pet a Genga then feed him his favourite bean to make hearts appear. Bonus points from me.

So, yeah. Get this. It’s a little more self-aware and ambitious than usual. Either they had a change in design team or they wanted to make Sun stand above it’s competition, which appears to just be Yokai-Watch right now. If you enjoy pokemon or you enjoy a relaxing and simple RPG, this is worth picking up.

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diaryofanalcoholicsdaughter-blog · 7 years

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Back home and (not) dealing with it

The entire year after my mom passed away I went through intervals of being fine and then dumping all me emotions onto people. Friends, co-workers, random people I met. Once I got started it all came out and I'd cry and cry and cry then I'd be 'fine' again. It was horrific for me a person who could talk a lot of shit and listen for hours about my friends shitty lives or situations but to throw my own hurts out there was new. In twenty five years I'd never done that. Hinted at yeah made jokes about sure but just let it all out? Not fucking way. It was also the first time I realized though I'd been several of my 'friends' emotional support and sounding board they hadn't the foggest clue on how to deal with me being the emotional one. I laughed off a lot of stuff before turned it into one huge joke. I could be serious but mostly about other people's lives. Their problems. Not my own. I was nearly raped by a friend of a friend and I'd brushed it off with a casual joke during my college years. Someone pointed out I should be pissed not laughing I'd brushed it off as no big deal. We were all drunk. Well I was he was sober. It took another female friend getting upset and telling me it wasn't funny and not to laugh about it for me to admit the tiny ball of panic and self loathing I'd been feeling all day. I'd felt like I was choking and hadn't known why. Emotional's that the entire event sparked cause to cry about it. To face that I'd almost been raped my virginity had been in danger and I was making plans to hang out with the same guy friends as the night before. All because I'd said it wasn't that bad. I wasn't really raped so no big deal right? What's a dick in the mouth while your passed out drunk from drinks someone else pressured you into taking among new friends right? Right. My biggest denial mechanism is its not a bad as it could have been. I tell myself to suck it up cause there is a lot worse in the world. Shit happens. I dropped out of college just stopped going when my mom got sick this time and didn't go back. The time frame of that is blurry for me actually. I don't know which one I did first. The whole year is blurry. A shit roommate. A cat that peed on everything because she was so starved for attention that I couldn't give her because I was allergic to cats and she wasnt my fucking cat to begin with. Being trapped in my room because of the roommate situation.(it was a cat piss smelling hell for me) Meeting new people and just learning I'd have to deal with a lot of shit on my own cause no one cared for me the way I wanted/needed them to. When I got the call from my brother that my father had been doing just at bad as me I was sympathetic. Even worse actually since he'd gotten two duis in two different states and crashed his car in one. With my lease ending I lept at the chance to help him out and get my own life together at the same time. Which is what I told myself at the time but I just was tired. I was depressed and home seemed like a good idea. A part of me was hoping my mom would be there knowing she was dead was one thing. Pretending she was still in that other state waiting for me to come visit was another thing. I was in pretty deep denial. My childhood is blurry. I have three older brothers. One is only a half brother the oldest (a different father) and the other two are full blooded I guess you'd call it both older I was the youngest and only girl. There was a lot of fighting. My brothers were street despite the nice house we lived in. All three dropped out by the 10th grade. All three were in jail. Only one learned his lesson and only went once the youngest of the three. The other two were in and out. ( both are currently in) A lot of bloody fist fights between them. Some with my dad. My mom would fight them too but we all held a higher level of respect for her then my father. Dad was the enemy and I forgot why. A lot of shit I blocked out or choose to forget since well that's how children do when dealing with stressful situations. How I always learned to deal I guess. Bottle it just till you exploded. Sometimes loudly in violent and verbally abusive ways ( I know now I was a terror in hs. I thought it was normal but it wasn't I was a bully) other times quietly which ended in a lot of tears and staring over the ledges of rooftops wondering if you'd survive the fall. But here's the thing. I don't remember my dad well. All I knew of him was a bunch of empty promises, (yay trust issues) the time he took me into a bar and bought me a pickled egg making me promise not to tell my mom (I totally did), fishing trips, how well he would take care of other peoples kids, he was always letting people borrow money and a burning overwhelming dislike bordering on full blown hatred for him. I forgot why really. Time and distance did that for me. I always forgot how someone has disappointed me or hurt me with time and distance. Since I was eighteen to the time i was twenty five he and I had talked maybe a total of sixteen hours over the phone. I talked for hours almost every day with my mom. He'd send money for me but half the time it wasn't the amount he had said he would send of I'd have to pay him back that same week or send money back home to help my mom out. Money was a big thing in our family. I remembered not having a lot. My brothers said the same but they would always always have more then me in the end. Things were odd. My dad was quick to buy a brand new car for my middle brother (his first born not my older half brother) or the latest sneakers for my brothers and shit like a hundred dollar pair of pants for them but we'd never have a lot of food. My brothers had the nicest clothes but I always got food. Not that I wouldn't have liked nice clothes but shopping trips were hell to me. I was fat not super fat but chubby. My dad would constantly tell me I was too fat for the clothes I would look at. My mother didn't know how to dress me and I soon just stopped wanting to shop because I dreaded hearing I couldn't have it for this or that reason or just that I was too fat for it as soon as I picked it up. I was smart about the food. I'd only ask for stuff when we went monthly food shopping. My dad's retired military so we got paid once a month. The thing that pissed me off most was my disabled diseased as I liked to call her crippled ass mother had to work a full time job to support my family despite the extravagant spending. My mom taught me how to hide my money from my dad. We moved several times when I was younger because we suddenly couldn't afford this house or that one. But soon enough we settled. My dad developed a sense of it was him (maybe us depending on his mood) against the rest of the neighborhood. Things like that. It was weird to the younger me I would ask questions constantly and my mother's answers were always just life lessons or little ways to ignore and deal with my father/brothers but It was my mom so I listened. She was the one who taught me all women would some day be the victim or a rape. It was just the way the world was. She being the child born from a rape would know. Again weird but hey it was my mom so I took heed of her words. I was closest with my older brother. Neither he nor I were treated well. He was troubled but I was ignored. My father doted on my middle brothers and kind of just left me and my oldest brother hanging. I didn't notice it as much back then because I had my mom. Me and my oldest brother formed a team. A warped team since despite being younger he depended on me a lot. I was like the older sister or mom most the time.My oldest brother had our mom too but he was always starving for a father's approval. I was the peaceful go between. Always with reassurance and just telling him our dad loved him of course he did. I honestly didn't give a shit about my dad. I had my mom and whatever weird bond I had with my oldest brother. But still I didn't really know why I disliked my dad so much. I told myself I was older and wiser now. I'd lived on my own for eight years by then so I knew how hard it was to pay all the bills. I told myself to be more understanding about my childhood situation which I'd didn't fully understand cause I didn't even have kids and the struggle was real. I moved back in with my dad. To help him get his life together. To help out around the house as he paid his fines and drive him around since his license was suspended. He lived in the sticks of tn so he needed a car to get anything done. Things were good at first. We talked a lot. A big getting to know you moment. He bought me a new bed and furniture. I didn't have a job so I had a lot of time to dedicate to his needs and wants. Just driving him around and sleeping when I got overwhelmed and couldn't cope. I started to notice after I came a bit out of the fog he was naggy. Nothing was ever enough for him. I never did enough. I was lazy wasn't I a too fat as well? I shouldn't buy that or eat that. Get up and take him here. He drank a lot which I remembered but it was even more then before. I chalked it up to him grieving my mother's lose. It had after all only been a year. One day, or it felt like one day, I noticed I hid a lot in my room. From my naggy brother and my naggy father. It was the same thing I'd run away from. Being trapped in my own 'home'. I really began to feel trapped more and more ever day. I felt like shit and didn't know why. I slept crazy hours or didn't sleep at all. When my youngest brother and his girlfriend came over once a month to do their laundry and take over the house I hid from them too. They nagged me a lot to get a job despite not having one themselves and having a baby on the way together. I didn't do much admittedly. I just got heavier and heavier but still I drove my dad around which they wouldn't do and did almost everything he asked me to do. They yelled at me a lot or just gave me the silent treatment . Soon a silent pressure began to grow and it was lick the very air around them was always hostile. My dad seemed oblivious till I pointed it out then he would act. He'd lecture or yell at them tell them to stop making me feel that way. It was as if I was an invader and they hated me for one reason or another. Nothing I did was good enough. For my father for my brother for his girlfriend or my aunt and uncle who lived near us. Those two were a whole different story. I despised them and they hated me back. I went on food stamps because despite all the money my dad made we still never had food in the house. The first week of the month we always well he always feasted like a king i just drove, the rest of the month was borderline starving so I got the food stamps to balance it out. Jobs were hard to come by at the time. And with Obama running for president and all that being a black person in the south was pretty hard. Most the job interviews I went to had confederate flags in the windows. I'd get turned away sometimes harshly but more often with a southern sweet 'your a bit over qualified' or ' we happened to just fill the spot. Maybe next time sugah'. Things were weird. I was always stressed out and filled with a dread I couldn't explain. Calls or visit from my brother just caused fights or for me to retreat into myself. Seeing my dad stressed me out and things just weren't clear to me. Then one day (again more like a month or so) it became clear. I finally got a job and my dad bitched constanly. From the minute he crawled out of the bottle he'd fallen asleep in to the moment I left for work and got back. Most of our trips outside the house were for food to take him to the liquor store or drop him at his friends house so he could drink with them as they did drugs. He nagged all the time ' What would he do if I has a job' but of course he would come back and say he wanted me to succeed in life and I was still young so I should concentrate on me. BUT How was he supposed to get around now? It was a waste or time. I didn't know what I was doing. Blah blah blah. After not even a week I quit that job. My dad calmed down after that. The worse was the house was filthy but my room was neat never any food in my room or trash on the floor. He'd often say I was a terrible house keeper because I wouldn't clean up (after him id always clean any mess i made) The house would smell like rotting food and spoiled milk and the sour smell of vomit. Every morning I'd wake to the sound of him vomiting his liquid dinner and breakfast back up. He'd often leave food on plates and stack them in the sink till they grew mold. He'd cook and let the food spoil in the pot for the next few days. My brother would come clean it all up when he did laundry he'd get paid for it too. They'd come over more when their electric went out or the cable got turned off cause they didn't pay it instead taking trips to Florida to bathe in the sun. When he came he blamed me for the mess since I was there after all why couldn't I care for my father more. I was such a lazy daughter. Lazy lazy useless girl. Go do this or go do that. If you were a good person you'd do it. No matter how many times I asked my father not to leave things out or throw things away he'd ignore me. Fighting became a constant. I was losing the battles and the war. It happened all the time. Then one day I realized he didn't really hear a word I said. I hate corn dogs. Hed buy them for me all the times. Hed make a mistake and call me my mothers name only when i nagged him about his drinking or lack of cleaning of course. It became clear to me.He talked nicely but the mintue I said no or I didn't want to he'd blow up. So I avoided it by just doing as he asked or doing nothing at all. He'd tease how he rarely saw me since I was always 'holed up' in my room. Each time I did for myself or tried to get my life back on track he bitched till I felt like a selfish horrible child and stopped whatever action had offended him. I'd moved in with my father and lost myself to my father and brother and their demands. I was literally trapped with no place to go no money to my name and no job to speak of. So I survived. I became a yes woman. A person who just did as they were told at first. Then I just became a tired women who just did nothing. I lived in filth because that was what there was. He wouldn't clean since he wanted me too do it. But I'd be stubborn and outlast him till he had no choice but to clean. After all my room was always clean. Covered in books at time but I never stank. It was the rest of the house the other his bedroom that took up an entire floor my brothers bedroom (though he didn't live with us) the kitchen and living room that belonged to everyone but me that stank. My room which was next to the garage and didn't have heating or air conditioning in it was my oasis. No smells but old books and my own body sweat. No pressure. I could sleep all day. Don't get me wrong it wasn't all horrible. Which was the worst part I think. It was what reminded me of my childhood. The good days. Those one or two days out of the entire month that were good and you'd cling to those memories. Or I did. Even in that hot stuffy room it wasn't that bad. When I got depressed enough that my father actually paid attention he bought me a hamster to talk to. The good days were the worse for me. I'd cling to those good days and use them to forgot and ignore the bad. But the self loathing stayed. It always stayed. Like a little black cloud floating above my head. No matter how hard I laughed or how much I read it was always there. Just waiting till i was sitting up at 4 am to descend upon my thoughts and remind me of the bad days. The days he broke a promise or called me fat or made me feel so little as a person my own self worth was crippled to the point I'd drive down the highway and think about crashing the car so we'd die together as he nagged on and on about something or tried to joke to lighten my mood when I got mad just to see how much he'd like that dying with his useless lazy daughter. Or I'd speed down the highway alone free from him for and hour or two and so viciously wish I'd just drive and keep driving and never look back but not having the courage to do that. They were dark days. They still keep me up. But my own personal hell wasn't over yet. No it got worse. Much worse for me at least.

#family #dysfunctional #diary #messed up #drama #alcoholic #losing yourself

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