#maybe it's when someone tried to switch the utilities for my apartment into their name not once but TWICE

[stutterfly]

Swipe Right 01 | Context Switch | JJK (M)

Rating: M (Explicit 18+)

Pairings: Jungkook x Reader, brot7 x friendship

Genre: E2L, fluff, angst [later on], humor, [eventual] smut, PersonalTrainer!Jungkook, fuckboy!Jungkook, Nerd!Jungkook, Nerd/IT!Reader

Word Count: 12.8K

Fic Summary: Jungkook wasn’t always like this. Or maybe he was and you don’t want to admit that he had you fooled. You quickly discover he has a lot more to offer than exchanging pleasantries and awkward small talk. In fact, he never seems to shut up.

For the better part of a year, he’s held your irritation hostage, never passing up an opportunity to deliver savage one-liners at your expense. When he discovers you’re on Tinder, he turns up the brattiness factor and intentionally seeks you out. Who knows? Maybe if you gave him a chance he could charm the pants right off of you. Then again, maybe he’s just a fuckboy.

Tags: Fuckboy Jungkook, like cannot stress enough Fuckboy Jungkook but gets soft later, dirty jokes, talk nerdy to me, PUNS, friendship feels, sexual tension, Jin being bad at copying Mario’s accent, Namjoon being bad at accents

CW:  panic attacks, filthy language, this whole chapter is setup so like nothing too bad i dont think???

Series: Activate your SIMCard Fic: Swipe Right (1/?- Ongoing) Do not repost. masterlist // next chapter

(A/N: This is part of my “Activate Your SIMcard” series. Each member of BTS has their own AU in which IT/TechSupport/NerdReader gets dating help/advice and ends up falling in love with them instead. As with a dating sim, the same characters are utilized--same professions, similar scenario placement-- but different interactions/pathways lead to different romances. ~Anyway here’s the Jungkook route.~ The Namjoon route, “Love Bytes” is currently in the works.)

⊱ ────── {.⋅ ✯ ⋅.} ────── ⊰

Nerves wrack your stomach as you make your way down the hall, clinging to the man beside you. His strides seem gigantic next to yours and you find yourself struggling to keep up with him. “Stop walking so fast, Namjoon.”

The man laughs, but slows his pace just enough to allow you to walk side-by-side. “Sorry. I’m just excited for you to meet them.”

Digging your fingernails into the flesh of his elbow, you swallow hard. It’s been a couple months since the young English professor stumbled into your life holding the pieces of some very expensive, very shattered college property. State of the art technology, brand new, busted in less than a week of his arrival. He’d get the biggest chew-out of his life if he presented it to your boss, and you were too sympathetic to let that happen.

While you’d willingly paid for the whole thing out of pocket to cover for the newbie, it had definitely put a strain on your finances and what little social life you had. Within a week he’d worked up a repayment plan than spanned the course of a year. He even started buying you a coffee every Friday as an apology for how long it was going to take.

After a few months of bonding over kung-fu movies, life before Namjoon’s friendship seemed like a distant past, a hazy dream. It was natural that your new bestie wanted to grow your pitiful social circle. But there was a reason you didn’t let people get close to you. The fact that Namjoon had slipped past your defenses so fast made him an anomaly worth dissecting for scientific discovery.

Just the thought of having to now socialize with people you don’t know has your temperature boiling and your head spinning.

He attempts to tug his elbow away from you, and you stumble forward, keeping your death grip on him. “I know, but talking to people isn’t exactly my strong suit. Are you sure it’s best I meet all six at once?”

“You’ve already met Jimin,” he begins, clawing at your hand with long, veiny fingers until you release your hold on him, “but he’s not coming tonight, so don’t worry... you can relax a little.”

Your face twists into a sour grimace as you try to sputter out a response. “I-Pfft. I mean. Jimin’s a model. His face is on billboards and shit. Like… how is that supposed to not be intimidating?”

“Jimin is the world’s biggest sweetheart,” he laughs, shoving his hands into his pockets as you continue down the hallway. “You don’t have anything to be afraid of. I have a feeling you two will get along fine once you stop being so shy.”

You huff and tick your jaw a few times before wringing your hands together. Maybe.

“Anyway. Taehyung is out of town on business, but you can meet him another time. He’s kind of quiet when meeting new people too. Hoseok and Yoongi texted they might be a little late. It’ll just be Jin and Jungkook you’re meeting now. And it’ll be just the four of us for a bit.”

A deep breath escapes you as you hook your elbow with his. “Okay. I just… I’m nervous.”

He stops at the door at the end of the hall and looks down at you. “Give them a chance. If you’re still feeling bad in an hour, then we’ll leave, and I’ll hang out with y’all separately from now on. Deal?”

You eye his extended palm peeking out from beneath the crook of your twined elbows before a smile creeps across your face. You shake his hand. He always knows what to say. “Deal.”

As Namjoon knocks, you leave the comfort of his side, realizing how your anxious clinging might be mistaken for a romantic gesture. You begin to shrink back, trying to hide in his shadow before the door opens. You’re about halfway there when a young, well-built man appears, prominent leg muscles bulging from beneath his basketball shorts as he props the door open with his foot. There’s a cup of instant noodles in his hands, and you’re pretty sure at least half of its contents are dangling from his mouth.

The scent of garlic and rosemary drifts into your nostrils, and you freeze as you cower behind Namjoon, realizing how long it’s been since you last had a decent home-cooked meal. You were promised free food so maybe it won't be so bad after all.

“Ah, Namjoon,” he greets and gestures with his head towards the domicile. “Come in--Oh!”

He chokes a chunk of noodles back into the paper cup as he notices your figure standing behind the tall man.

“Jungkook, this is Y/N,” Namjoon says, stepping to the side and pushing you out into the light of the apartment “I told you she was coming tonight, remember?”

Jungkook’s dark brown eyes widen and he pumps a fist into his chest a few times as he tries to get the remnants of spicy noodles dislodged from the back of his throat. Namjoon sent a bunch of texts this week making sure it was cool to bring someone to hangout night since he’d made a friend at work and wanted everyone to meet them. The way the texts were worded definitely didn’t give any indication that the friend he was bringing tonight was a woman. Maybe they did. Maybe he should have read more of them.

The muscular man before you holds the remaining food in his cheeks and waves bashfully with two fingers as he swallows. "Jungkook," he mumbles, as if the name itself is introduction enough and all but sprints from the room.

Seconds later, a new voice shrieks out from the other room. “What are you doing eating that?! Dinner will be ready soon! Jungkookie if you don’t put that down--!”

A dull smacking sound accompanies the clattering of silverware and plates. You swallow hard, trying to think about anything other than the way the young man had rushed out of the room at just the sight of you. Maybe you’re just that ugly.

“Hey! I’ll eat! I’ll eat! I promise!” Jungkook cries out. His voice drops an octave. “Namjoon is here.” Their conversation becomes indiscernible, but you can’t shake the feeling that you are definitely the subject of their quiet discussion.

You throw a worried glance in Namjoon's direction. "Did I do something wrong?" your voice is hushed as you work your sneakers off, trying to hold in the crazy amount of anxiety that threatens to unscrew the top of your head and send your brain exploding into the ceiling.

Namjoon shakes his head, unbothered by his friend’s odd behavior. "Honestly, I texted him a bunch this week to make sure it was cool and I got one-word replies so I'm wondering if he even read them." He bites his lip and spares a glance back at you, knowing he probably should have kept that to himself.

"Oh," your heart sinks into your stomach and threatens to fall out your butt as you straighten your spine. "If that's the case, should I... leave?"

"Leaf?!" A bright green piece of lettuce is thrust into your face. "How about a whole salad? You can't go before you try it! It's unbe-leaf-able."

You blink in rapid succession, trying to stifle a laugh at the cackle emanating from the man whose bony fingers are holding the lettuce. It sounds like a... windshield wiper? A giggle slips out, stronger than your will to keep it tucked behind your lips, and it only seems to make the grin on his face stretch impossibly wider. Heavy shoulders rise and fall with his laughter, causing the bright pink apron across his chest to wrinkle.

Namjoon groans. "This is--"

"Now do you smell that delicious flavor in the air? Because this just a taste of what you will find at my amazing restaurant 'Heart and Seoul'," he announces, cutting off the man beside you as he clutches the lettuce to his chest with eyes closed. "Where I give you a piece of my heart and soul... Some refer to me as Worldwide Handsome, others call me the God of Cookery. Some call me an angel and believe I fell from heaven." He bows with a flourish and takes your hand in his. "But you can call me..." He finally looks at you, a dark smoulder in his features that sets your cheeks on fire. "Later?"

He seals your fate with a gentle kiss to the back of your hand. Your jaw, which has been hanging open for some time, finally decides to snap itself shut.

"This is Seokjin, and he's going back into the kitchen to finish making dinner." Namjoon is already ushering his friend back towards the kitchen and chiding him as you purse your lips together to hide the smile spreading across your face. Did you just stumble into some alternate universe where all of the men you meet are ridiculously good-looking?

"It's nice to meet you, Seokjin," you call after them before letting your eyes wander around the room.

Paintings line the walls and photos sit on the bookshelf in the corner. As you approach the shelf to get a closer look, you realize those aren't books, but video games. There must be hundreds. Don't people use cloud storage for most of their games now? Your eyes curiously scan the photos on the top shelf. The man who had introduced himself as Jungkook is in all of them. There's another man in a couple that you don't recognize, but his gaze is piercing and cold when he's not smiling. You're able to pick Jimin and Namjoon out in a few, but it feels like looking at a family photo. Everyone seems so close; it makes you envious.

You lick your lips and can't help but admire the collection of video games underneath. You crouch to get a better look at the ones lining the bottom shelf. You're surprised to see there are games for all types of consoles: PS4, XboxOne, Switch, WiiU, Nintendo DS, SuperNintendo, PlaystationVita, PC... The list keeps going. Jealousy spikes your gut as you note a Mass Effect "SSV Normandy" ship figurine on the shelf above your head. You eye it with wonder and pride as your memories flood with the hours you spent playing the trilogy. Your fingers reach out to brush against the raised letters on the side of the ship.

"Have you played Mass Effect?" a quiet voice asks from behind you.

You jump in place and spin on the balls of your feet in a fluid motion that nearly sends you careening into the basketball shorts in front of you. Surprised by how close Jungkook is standing, you gasp and stumble back into the bookshelf, causing it to wobble and bring some of the frames filled with photos tumbling down onto your head. You wait for the impact but it never comes.

As you look up, Jungkook has several frames balanced on his arms and between his fingers, carefully maneuvering them away from you and back onto the shelf. "I'm sorry! I didn't mean to scare you! Namjoon told me you liked video games too and I saw you looking at the Normandy and I thought maybe you've played it. Ah, I'm sorry."

It's hard to miss the crestfallen way he rubs the back of his neck and stares at the floor once he places all the photos back on the shelf. You're still in shock that he caught everything before it smacked you in the head, but you force yourself to respond anyway. "No, it's okay. I'm just a jumpy person. It's my fault. I'm just glad I didn't break anything. I'm... asari? Get it? 'Cause like, I'm sorry... but also hot blue alien chicks, am I right?"

He smiles wide and laughs softly as he offers to help you up. As you take hold of his hand, you're quickly thrust to your feet with an ease you weren’t quite expecting. You steady yourself by reaching out to grip his arm, a movement you reverse the moment you feel the firm muscles beneath his t-shirt.

"Thanks," you mumble. Feeling his hand tense around yours, you take it back and twiddle your fingers. "So what decisions did you make? Renegade or Paragon? Rachni Queen? Samara's mission? Quarian and Geth dispute? Genophage?" You pause only to take a breath. "If you let Wrex die, we can't be friends."

He blinks at you a few times before breaking into a relaxed smile. “Of course not. What kind of monster do you think I am?”

You allow a relieved sigh to pass your lips. Maybe this wouldn’t be so painful after all.

⊱ ────── {.⋅ ✯ ⋅.} ────── ⊰

You must have made a good impression that night. It’s been nearly a month and Namjoon’s friends have started pulling you into their group texts and Saturday night plans. This had been fine by you since you rarely had anything going on. Honestly it was kind of nice to be included.

While you still don’t exactly know everyone, you feel fairly comfortable talking with your new friends. Seokjin is absolutely hilarious. He’s so full of himself that his cockiness rides the line between charming and annoying; it’s hard to decide which aspect overwhelms his personality more. But you know that you find him irrefutably, irritatingly attractive because of it.

Jungkook is still polite and rather gentlemanly towards you. Your conversation about Mass Effect was enough to tide over any residual awkwardness regarding your initial meeting. He’s just a muscular, nerdy introvert who seems genuinely nice. However, Namjoon insists that Jungkook is still hiding a louder, brattier side when you’re around. He’s got this theory that since you’re a friend of a friend, Jungkook is holding back his usual antics for some reason. The harmless little crush you’ve developed on him has you secretly holding out hope that it’s because he wants to ask you to be his girlfriend. You’ve considered asking Jin what he thinks, but that man has no tact and honestly you’re afraid he’d just ask Jungkook with you standing right there.

Hoseok is a ball of smiling energy, one who has been begging you to visit his dance studio. It’s hard to say no, but you’ve managed for this long because of the very real possibility that you won’t be able to do anything but stare at the dazzling way he moves. He seems to take pride in his ability to make others feel good and absolutely beams when he’s the cause of his friends’ happiness. You can easily see yourself talking to him without Namjoon around to act as a buffer, which is amazing for someone with your level of social anxiety.

Yoongi is quiet, but when he speaks his words are sharp with purpose. Some people might mistake that for coldness, but you can tell he has good intentions and a soft heart underneath. His pointed remarks in the group interrogations have poked fun at you, but never in a condescending or cruel manner. And it’s certainly not in the way you see him absolutely roast the others. Maybe he’s taking it easy on you.

Jimin is still so beautiful to look at it devastates you, leaving a flustered, stuttering mess behind every time he leaves. Now that he’s become aware of the effect he has on you, he’s been testing the waters of your friendship with some teasing that borderlines flirtation. But you have a feeling he’s just screwing with you because he finds it funny to see you squirm. You’re hoping to build the confidence to dish it back some day.

Taehyung has been a little standoff-ish, but Namjoon had already warned you about that. You wonder if it’s because he’s a hundred times richer than you’ll ever be. Despite seeming like he’s in a different social class, he still seems deeply fond of his friends, and relatively down-to-earth. He’s a bit quirky, but he’s an artist, so you expect that kind of thing.

Namjoon says that he’s known almost all of them since college, so he’s been able to absorb most of the discomfort associated with meeting new people. He’s sweet, and more relatable than you originally would have thought for an English professor. He’s kind of like a pillar that you never knew your life had been missing. And now that he’s got your back, you can’t go back.

The smell of coffee pervades the air as you skim an article on your phone regarding the latest Halloween skins for Overwatch. You’re supposed to be meeting Namjoon here but Seokjin, and Jimin showed up and have been chatting about their plans for the weekend. Apparently they throw a Halloween party every year and it’s Jimin’s turn to host. Seokjin is supposedly in charge of planning the decorations due to his love for theatrics and has been discussing the possibility of a haunted house walkthrough. You smile at the thought of Seokjin popping out of the shadows to drop fake spiderwebs on people. It sounds like the kind of thing he’d get off to.

Namjoon flops down on the couch next to you. “You’re coming, right?”

You’re broken from your thoughts as you scroll further down the page. “E-Excuse me?”

“The Halloween party. You coming?”

You look up from your phone, feeling everyone’s eyes on you. “I mean… I don’t want to intrude on your group thing.”

“You’re not intruding!” Jimin, Jin, and Namjoon’s voices all stack upon each other and you’re taken aback by the sound.

Jin frantically scrambles to make you feel included. “Y/N, we just assumed you were coming. Of course you’re invited! You can help me get everything set up for the scary walkthrough. Please come.”

“Don’t give her work to do that you should have already figured out,” Jimin hisses before sending a warm smile your way. “I’ll text you the address later. It’s a costume party so make sure to dress up!”

Your bottom lip unconsciously protrudes in a pout as you pass a discouraging look Namjoon’s way. “What are you going as?”

He gives you a heartfelt, dimpled smile. “Sherlock Holmes,” he says with the worst british accent you’ve ever heard in your life. “World’s greatest detective.” He drops his accent and starts gushing. “The tweed suit is fairly iconic and most people will recognize the costume so I think it’s a safe option. Originally, I was going to go as Judge Di but Jimin kept telling me no one would get it. It would take some research to really get a feel for how he’d dress, but I’d be willing to put in the work.”

Your eyebrows furrow. “Judge Dee? Like…. Judge... Ju...dy?” you trail off in confusion, immediately regretting your decision to ask.

Jimin throws his hands up as if this is the proof he’s needed to convince his friend that he’s wrong. “You see? I told you no one knows who that is.”

“Judge---! Really?!” Namjoon looks like he’s about to go off, but he shakes his head and sighs. “You know what? It’s okay. I look really good in a tweed suit. That’s all that matters.” He finished his statement by gesturing towards his chest.

You can’t help but laugh. “You’re such a dork.” You turn your attention to the others and raise your eyebrows at them. “What about you two?”

Jimin drags his teeth over his lip and shyly smiles. “I’m going as Iron Man. Tae’s been helping me build my costume for a while now.”

“Jungkookie and I are going as Luigi and Mario,” Jin proudly states he leans forward, resting his elbows on his knees while tenting his fingers. “I’m Mario, of course, since everyone knows he’s the best.”

You roll your eyes. “Sounds like you, Seokjin.”

“What will you come as?” he questions with a smirk, cocking a mischievous eyebrow at you.

“Well...” you hesitate, knowing that most costume shops will be sold out of anything interesting or slutty; at this point your options are limited unless you want to be a Crayola shit brown crayon. “I’m not sure yet,” you mumble, scratching your cheek sheepishly. “I only found out just now so I don’t have anything ready. I usually go over Jennie’s place, hand out candy in my pajamas and watch scary movies, so I don’t know if I should bail on her like that.”

Solid excuse. Great job, brain. Really. Can I sound like more of a loser?

“She can come too,” Jimin offers with a thoughtful tilt of his head and a warm smile. “It’s a very open party. Lots of people will be coming and going, so it’s no trouble if you want to invite more of your other friends, if that makes you comfortable.”

Other friends. Like you have more than this group and Jennie. You’re going to just pretend like you didn’t hear that part. You can already hear her shrieking at you to say you’ll be there. She loves dressing up and would be more than happy to exchange a night of handing out candy for a night of partying. You suppose you can always get some vampire teeth and dab some fake blood on your mouth, but it feels like a cop-out. It’s a solid back-up plan at the very least.

“Okay. I’ll think about it,” you murmur with a fleeting look of panic directed at Namjoon.

He offers a sympathetic smile and pats your shoulder. “It’s okay if you don’t come. I’m just saying there will be free food.”

Your spine straightens and you perk up.

“Free food?” The words on you’re about to utter spill from a different source. A chin drops into the space between Namjoon’s shoulder and yours. Jungkook’s hair is still wet, but thankfully it’s not long enough to brush against your skin. The soft, sweet, almost floral scent of his body wash wafts into your nose as you turn your head to look at him. You surmise he’s come directly from work if he’s showering in the late afternoon. You internally swat the butterflies playing with your ribcage, trying to remember how to act normal.

Jungkook smiles sweetly, his eyes nearly closing with how high his cheekbones have risen. “Where is this food?”

“At the Halloween party,” Namjoon comments with a dismissing wave of his hand. “I was just telling Y/N that she’ll miss out if she doesn’t come.”

Jungkook raises his eyebrows and drops his smile as his surprised stare pierces your periphery. “Oh, you’re not coming?”

“I was thinking about it.” You immediately feel the need to defend yourself. “I don’t have anything to wear.”

“So don’t wear--” Jungkook catches himself before the word anything comes out. “A costume,” he finishes simply, straightening his spine and clearing his throat. “I mean we can make an exception. No one’s gonna kick you out.”

A devilish grin spreads across Seokjin’s features. “I’m sure I can help you find a pink dress and crown if you’d like to be our lovely Princess Peach. We can give each other items.”

Jungkook’s eyes widen at his friend and Jin stares back with anticipation, waiting for him to make the mushroom joke he clearly set him up for. Jungkook purses his lips and quietly regards you. As the moment passes, Jin’s brow furrows and he crosses his arms in a huff, wishing that he’d said it instead. It’s been too long since you’ve blushed for his liking.

“Maybe I’ll show up in a leotard, spiked collar, and fishnets as Bowsette instead.” You nearly snort at your own joke.

Jungkook and Jin spill their surprise over one another.

“Whaa? Really?” Jin’s mouth hangs open, the image already permanently searing its way into his brain.

“You what?” Jungkook clamps his hands over the edge of the couch, hulking figure looming over you.

While Jimin and Namjoon are both oblivious what a Bowsette is, the words “spiked collar and fishnets” have certainly grabbed their attention as well.

You blink a few times, realizing how serious everyone has become as you sputter out a nervous laugh. “Kidding, guys. Kidding.”

Jin tuts in disappointment, slinking back into his chair. Jimin simply smiles. Namjoon breathes a relieved sigh. Jungkook starts walking away, distracted by the signage on the counter promoting a cinnamon chocolate chip milkshake.

“Besides, I’m more of a…” A lightbulb flicks on in your head and the thought comes spilling out your mouth before you can process it. “Oh, I have a cosplay from the gaming convention I went to a year ago. Maybe I can wear that.”

All three men lean forward, suddenly very interested in the concept of you using a cosplay as a Halloween costume. Jungkook’s head snaps in your direction just as he extends his hand to give his money to the cashier, but he drops it prematurely, sending coins scattering across the counter.

The sound causes all of you to look over at him and he quickly turns back to the cashier. She raises her eyebrows at him as he scrambles to recover all of the money for her. His ears turn bright red from the attention and you can’t help but put yourself in his shoes, cringing at the embarrassment coursing through your veins at the thought of swapping places.

Spinning back to face the others, you find Jin and Jimin on the edge of their seats, staring at you. Namjoon blinks at you and tilts his head expectantly. “You were saying?” he prods. “Something about an anime costume?”

Suddenly you’re embarrassed for yourself rather than Jungkook. “Don’t be weird, Joonie. It’s just a Princess Zelda cosplay.” You scratch your cheek in contemplation, murmuring, “Actually, I don’t even know if it still fits since I’ve gained some weight since then.”

Namjoon pats your shoulder assuringly. “Ah you’re fine. Don’t worry too much about it, ok?”

“He’s right. Just bring your smile, cutie,” Jimin says encouragingly.

You blush at the nickname and grin in response. He said it innocently enough, but you get the feeling that you reacted exactly as he had hoped because he exchanges a smug smirk with Seokjin. “See? Bring that.”

“Ah, you guys are embarrassing me,” you mumble, diving back into the article on your phone. “I’ll talk to Jennie about it later.”

Jungkook listens carefully as he tongues his cheek and waits for his drink to arrive at the counter. Are you really going to show up in that? He pulls out his phone and starts skimming amazon. There’s no way he can pass up the opportunity, regardless of what’s at stake.

A familiar veiny hand sets the drink down on the counter, and he outstretches his palm. “Service was good, yeah?”

Jungkook looks up from the checkout page and locks eyes with Yoongi. He scoops a large portion of whipped cream from beneath the lid and pops it in his mouth thoughtfully, smacking his lips as he washes it down with a sip through his straw. Yoongi raises his eyebrows at him expectantly, but remains silent.

“Hmm, I’ve had better. Maybe if I had some more whipped cream?” Jungkook suggests as he tilts his cup forward and gives it the tiniest shake, shit-eating grin strewn across his features.

Unblinking, Yoongi squirts a puff of cream into the top of the container before loudly setting the can on the counter. Satisfied, Jungkook reaches into his pocket and fishes out some money for a generous tip. “See this is why you’re my favorite barista. You always make it just how I like it.”

Yoongi forces a smile as he stuffs the cash into the half-filled tip jar. “The Java Stop values your patronage, customer.”

He catches a glimpse of Jungkook’s phone screen before the younger man snatches it from the counter and walks away. What the hell is he up to?

⊱ ────── {.⋅ ✯ ⋅.} ────── ⊰

You curse your past self for choosing Zelda’s outfit from Twilight Princess rather than Breath of the Wild; style over comfort rarely is a good choice, but it’s a choice you often repeat without forethought. It’s tighter than you remember, and not just because there’s a corset sewn into the chestpiece. As you sit in the passenger’s seat of Jennie’s Civic, you fidget with the hem of your dress. Without taking her eyes off the road, she reaches over and slaps your hand.

“Stop it. You look great.”

You rub the back of your wrist and pout, knowing it does nothing to change her mind. You eye her tattered dress, wishing you could pull off something so slutty with the same confidence she does. White contacts make her look even more ethereal than she normally does. Natural waves and curls poke out from beneath the bent witch’s hat atop her head and you can’t help but admire her beauty.

“I look like a nerd,” you say, feeling shittier the longer you compare yourself to her. It’s not her fault. You’re just insecure and wish that you could be more like her rather than the you that you are.

“You are a nerd,” she laughs. “What’s wrong with that?”

You smile. “Nothing, I guess. I don’t know why I’m so worried about it. It’s not like I’m gonna be getting laid any time soon. This costume solidifies it.” Negativity is something you’re used to dosing yourself with, but you know it’s an action you need to work at correcting.

“Hey if no one wants to fuck you in a Zelda costume, do they even deserve to fuck you?” Jennie asks, wagging her pointer at the ceiling as if scolding some invisible source above. “I don’t fucking think so.” She tuts for a second. “So speaking of… Which ones are off limits?”

You scoff and stiffen in your seat, trying to play dumb. “What? What’s off limits?”

“Y/N,” she starts in an accusatory tone. “I’m sure there will be lots of hot people there, but I’m talking about seven hot people in particular. Now if they came up to me and said ‘hey Jennie you so fine you wanna suck all seven of our dicks?’ I’d be like hell yeah I’ma suck all seven dicks. Get in a circle and let me at ‘em.”

You smack your hand to your forehead, wishing you could purge that image from your brain.

“Now I’m just saying in this hypothetical situation that I would never turn down going down on any of them if they asked. Unless I remembered that one time you told me you were crushing, maybe, just maybe I wouldn’t suck that particular dick.”

“We’re about to go see these people. I don’t want to be thinking about this while sipping my drinks across from Seokjin. That man can smell fear, shame, and insecurity,” you mumble, looking out the window at the trees lining the side of the road.

“So that’s why we get it out now before we get there. Can’t possibly slip out if you’ve already got it out of your system,” she explains with a confident smirk.

You cross your arms and give yourself a moment to truly think about the seven men. You certainly find all of them attractive, but crossing that line might make things weird. But maybe, hypothetically… “I don’t know… They’re all pretty hot in their own way…”

“You’ve got to be attracted to one more than the others,” she prods. “Come on, Y/N. Which one does it for you?”

Your tongue clicks against the roof of your mouth before you sigh. “I guess…” You subconsciously lick your lips and give it a few seconds before the memory of falling picture frames surfaces in your mind. An embarrassed smile flickers across your face as you give your quiet, honest answer. “J-Jeon… Jungkook.”

“The young one!” Her mouth falls open. She drums her fingers against the steering wheel excitedly and spares a delightful, yet surprised look at you for a fraction of a second before her eyes return to the road. “Really? I never would have guessed. But I haven’t talked to him much honestly. Doesn’t he work at that nerdy-looking gym you almost joined? What was it, Iron Kingdom? You could always sign up for personal training. Ya know, get some one-on-one time with those muscles...”

“He’ll think I’m dumb for not knowing how to do anything,” you mumble. “Besides that’s not why.”

You shake your head and pause to start counting the list on your fingers. “Okay so he’s got muscles, a cute laugh, he likes video games, he literally always smells so fucking good, he has a great smile, he’s nice, and like he’s so mature for his age. I’m so surprised.”

“I mean from the few times I’ve seen him, I thought for sure he’d be a tool and a major shithead,” she admits.

“I know, but seriously don’t judge a book by its cover. He’s been so chill and respectful and has made me feel so welcome over the last few weeks. None of that fuckboy shit you’d expect to get with younger guys like, he doesn’t talk over me, no mansplaining, he looks me in the eyes and not at my tits, and listens when I say something, even if it’s just me talking about my day.” You pause, registering the words you just said. “Wow, the bar is really low, isn’t it?”

“Sad, but true.” She nods, glancing at the GPS on the dashboard. It’s says you’re nearly there, but it’s kind of further out from the city than you’d both been expecting.

She laughs, mulling over everything you’ve said. “He seems kinda shy. You probably need to make the first move. Maybe you should tell him you have a big fat crush on him. Tell him you wanna hold his hand. Do you think he’d blush? I bet he would. I bet he has a cute flustered face. You should totally do it.”

Recalling the way his ears turned red at the cafe causes you to purse your lips, but the action can’t hide the smile curling at the corners of your mouth. So you have a little crush on Jungkook. Who wouldn’t? He’s practically flawless and totally swoon-worthy. Your heart races as you imagine his reaction to your outfit. Would he be taken aback by how good you look as one of the hottest, most iconic female characters in gaming history? He’s a huge geek so you know there’s a possibility that he could appreciate it. Sweaty fingers work their way down your wig, carefully smoothing out any loose strands. You hope he does.

⊱ ────── {.⋅ ✯ ⋅.} ────── ⊰

Walking into Jimin’s place feels like entering a mansion. He told you that he lives with two other people from the same modeling agency, but you didn’t realize how big the place would be. Seokjin’s ability to gather this many decorations and display them with such attention to ambiance is certainly a feat worthy of praise. You find yourself lost in the orange and yellow lights that border each doorway and drape along the walls. Their soft glow is comforting as you walk down the dim hallway, exploring the house just enough to find the table filled with fruits and snacks.

Jungkook is nowhere to be seen and you find yourself breathing a sigh of relief as you sip punch out of a red plastic cup, filling a plate with an excessive amount of strawberries, peaches, and other sweet fruits. Contrary to your previous belief that admission would mean freedom from the thoughts swirling in your brain, uttering the words out loud has made you paranoid that everyone now knows about your secret crush. You’re hoping that drinking will remove the worry from your brain, so you do your best to down the liquid fast and refill your cup.

Jennie immediately hit it off with one of Jimin’s roommates moments after walking in. You’re envious because holy fuck that guy is tall and jacked, and he’s wearing a Captain America outfit. Jennie is about to make out with Captain America and you’re gulping down spiked punch from a little plastic cup. You appreciate being able to silently agree to split, but know that you have each other’s back if either of you were to suddenly express interest in leaving, even if Captain America is balls deep.

She’s an extrovert. She loves socializing. Tossing a strawberry into your mouth, you eye the table of snacks again. You don’t. You love food. Food or sex would be a tough toss-up for you depending on the menu, and in this situation food definitely wins. There’s a buffet table of appetizers looping around the room and into the kitchen. It doesn’t get much better than this, especially knowing it was catered by Seokjin’s restaurant.

You remove a glove and tuck it beneath your armpit as you stuff your face full of sweet treats and survey the amount of people on the dance-floor. There are a good amount of people here --some with ludicrous costumes-- and it makes you feel better about being able to blend in.

You had arrived fashionably late only because Jennie may have passed the house a few times, thinking this place couldn't possibly be it. A hand skates around the periphery of your vision and you frown as it attempts to surreptitiously claim a peach slice from your plate. Following the hand to its owner, you find a smile quickly claiming your mouth in place of the previous sour grimace.

"There's plenty of peaches left over there," you say, pointing to the table of snacks beside you.

"Mmm," Namjoon hums as he pockets the fruit in his cheek. "But this pile is better. I can deduce that you've already picked out the best pieces, Zelda."

You look him over from head to toe, examining the details of his tweed suit. You hate to admit he's looking dapper as fuck in this outfit. Despite often wearing three-piece suits to work, you rarely have time to stop and really appreciate just how flattering they are on his frame. Your eyes settle on the dark brown silk carefully knotted around his neck. "Don't you get sick of wearing ties?"

His eyes widen and he blinks at you as if you'd just told him that he sat in some gum. "Do you think I should have gone with the bow-tie? I spent hours weighing the pros and cons to both and which would be more quintessential to the whole ensemble. Did I make the wrong choice?"

You open your mouth to respond, meaning to allay his concerns and tell him that he looks fine, but he interrupts rather quickly. "You know what, don't say anything. I brought the bow-tie as a backup. It's upstairs in the guest bedroom. I'll go put it on."

You grab his arm just as he's about to leave, noting the plate full of chicken wings precariously balanced on one hand. "Namjoon. Chill. Your tie looks fine. I was only asking because I would strangle myself if I wore one all the time. Now gimme some of that chicken."

His eyes dart from you to the plate in his hand and his anxiety seems to visibly melt away, replaced with a soft smile. "I'm overthinking again, huh?"

The words have never come easier than they do now. "No shit, Sherlock."

At that he offers a laugh. "How about a trade? I share the wings for access to the princess's treasury of peaches."

"Deal," you agree with a smirk, wiggling your eyebrows up and down. "Wanna people-watch with me?"

He nods enthusiastically as he tosses a handful of fresh fruit directly from your plate into his mouth. "I was gonna wander aimlessly and socialize but this sounds way better."

"Glad we're on the same page," you murmur into the chicken wing at your lips, sucking the sauce off of it and scanning the room for any particular eye-catching costumes.

The flash of red, flowing satin catches your eye. Is someone wearing a bathrobe? Seriously? The taste of hot buffalo sauce causes your lips to tingle as you note the soft, fuzzy edges of the robe. It looks comfy, actually.

You elbow Namjoon in the ribs, directing his attention to the slender, black-haired figure gliding across the room. Namjoon opens his mouth as if to identify the stranger, but the flourish of the robe beats him to it. As the material spins, you catch a glimpse of tan skin peeking out from the chest, long legs exposed as he reaches for the sash at his waist.

The silk billows as it comes undone, cascading to the floor like a river of crimson. There's no mistaking it. You're now staring at the nearly nude, half-painted body of Kim Taehyung. You can't help the way you jaw drops open at the sight of so much skin being flaunted seemingly without a care in the world. Namjoon's hand flies up to cover your eyes, as if he's going to spare you the sight you've already taken in. Now that you've seen Taehyung in a thong, there's no going back.

Sauce-covered fingers pry his away from your eyes just in time to meet the piercing gaze of the man across the room. Is it mirth or anger that graces his features? It's hard to tell with a paintbrush trapped in the box his teeth make. He takes lazy strides across the room as you struggle to keep your eyes off the unforgiving fabric outlining every last curve of his dick. It's not until he's closer that you notice the thin belts crossing his hips, which appear to be holding six tubes of paint, three strapped to each side like gun-holsters. You have to admit they frame his crotch rather nicely.

It takes every ounce of willpower you possess to keep your eyes trained on his face. He carefully takes the paintbrush out from between his teeth and extends it to you. "Draw something pretty on me, Y/N. You too, Joon. Tonight I'm a human canvas on display for the universe."

Your eyebrow quirks as you exchange a look with Namjoon and set your plate down. "You know people are just going to draw a bunch of dicks on you, right?"

He scoffs, waving off your concerns. "Don't be so negative. I will have a beautiful mural by the end of the night. Mark my words."

"I think you're putting too much trust in the goodness of human nature," Namjoon comments, his lips pressing together in an attempt to hide the amused grin that is quickly spreading across his features.

Taehyung cocks his head to the side and leans forward with a lopsided grin. You're afraid he's about to get even closer and whisper some dirty secret into your ear. Instead he asks in a breathy, low tone, "Princess Zelda wouldn't draw such dirty things on me, would she?"

Twirling the thick handle of the paintbrush between your fingers, your eyes dip to the paints secured at his waist. His eyes chase the trail yours make down his side and his delight splits his mouth into a goofy grin. "Oh. Help yourself." He gestures to the colors available with a sweep of his hands just above his hips. "Feel free to use your fingers instead.” He pauses when your mouth falls open slightly. “You know, to paint... Just be careful what you grab, Princess," he jokes.

Removing your other glove with your teeth, you drape them over your shoulder and reach out for the tube of yellow paint, trying to hide the way your hand trembles. He looks down and smiles as the cold paint touches his skin. Before long you have the faint shape of 3 triangles at the center of his chest.

“How fitting,” he murmurs, offering an amused hum as you fill in the last triangle with a glob of yellow that threatens to run down his torso.

“Oops, sorry,” you apologize, moving to tap the brush against the excess, but he grabs your wrist before the bristles can make contact with his skin again.

“That’s alright. Let it do what it does. I like it like this,” he says, watching the clump of paint slowly slide down his midriff. “Besides I’m sure someone else can use it.”

“Like Sherlock!” you suggest, holding the paintbrush out for your companion.

Namjoon takes it begrudgingly and uses the excess yellow to draw a small smiley face beside the triforce symbol.

“Cute,” Taehyung laughs as he takes the paintbrush back from Namjoon. “I love it. Thanks guys.”

Just as he turns to find his next artist, a long object bars his path, pressing against his chest just above the collarbone. You follow the shape of the bar to its owner, revealing a grinning Hoseok clad in an officer’s uniform.

“That’s a bold choice Taehyungie,” he says, securing the faux nightstick into a loop at his waist. “Just make sure you keep that thing on…” He gestures to the small bit of material at Taehyung’s crotch and holds up a pair of handcuffs with his index finger before continuing, “or I’ll have to arrest you for indecent exposure.”

“Impersonating an officer is a crime, you know,” Namjoon says, even as he’s reaching out to touch the shiny metal. “Wait. Where did you get these? Are they real?”

You squint at the device in Namjoon’s hands, looking for the safety release latch like the cheap pair you bought to use with your ex. You don’t see it. That can only mean that these are the kind where losing the keys would have real consequences. But you’re not about to out yourself as the kinky freak you are, so you bring your nearly forgotten drink to your lips and guzzle what’s left in the cup.

As the empty plastic hits the table, your eyes happen to trail across the room and land on a crowd of people gathering around a very impressive, fully-lit Iron Man costume. Jimin seems to be soaking the attention up as the crowd grows ever larger. The massive room has begun to diminish in size, and it’s as though the once comforting lights are now wilting and closing in on you, threatening to strangle the air from your lungs. The adrenalin spiking your veins is telling you it’s time to seek the comfort of open space and solitude. Fast.

You duck beneath Namjoon and Hoseok’s arms, carefully sidestepping around Taehyung to avoid brushing against the wet paint on his skin. “I’m gonna get some air. Try not to get cuffed, Sherlock,” you manage to joke with a smile before turning on your heels and booking it from the room.

If anyone responds to your joke or even acknowledges your exit at all, it’s lost on your ears. Sweat beads on the back of your neck as you hastily attempt to make your way down the hall. If you can just get outside, you can breathe. You’ll be fine. You know it.

Warm bodies clutter the path to your freedom and you can’t help but feel more and more breathless by the never-ending apologies spewing from your mouth as you squeeze past each blockade. You don’t feel like yourself, even as you speak. Taking in sharp, greedy breaths like this isn’t helping. Why is this place so devoid of oxygen? Your body moves on autopilot, seeing the faces of the people you pass, but not feeling their eyes on you.

You float out of the front door, your head as light as a feather, but your eyelids feel like they’ve been anchored. You’re positive you’re about to gracefully glide down the front steps, legs becoming amorphous blobs beneath you that will surely allow you to fly. Just as you’re leaning into the momentum of gravity, two pairs of hands steady your shoulders and criss-cross around your midriff.

“Deep breaths,” Jennie’s voice briefly cuts through the ringing in your ears.

“Do you need to sit down?” The other voice spills into your eardrum as a rushed whisper, one that’s dripping with concern.

Huh? You work on steadying your breathing instead of trying to answer.

“What did she drink?” the familiar voice asks Jennie, the brief flicker of panic quashed by the evenness of his tone. “How much has she had?”

“Relax, Yoongi. Not even our lightweight champion gets drunk that fast,” Jennie reassures him as they help you seat yourself on the top step. “Are you familiar with panic attacks?”

Yoongi rubs the back of his neck and nods silently, backing up to give you some space.

“Jennie. I’m fine now. Thank you,” you mumble, shaking your head and regaining your sense of self. “I’m glad you have my back.”

“Of course. I saw you in the hall and I just knew.”

You jump when you meet the gaze of her white, eerie contacts, which causes both her and Yoongi to laugh. You look up at Yoongi. He shoves his hands into his pockets, long flowing shirt obscuring any flesh poking out from beneath it.

“Hey, you’re not dressed up,” you blurt, realizing he’s sporting a very goth, natural Yoongi look.

He scoffs before bending at the waist and baring his teeth. A single vampire fang is affixed to one of his canines.

You tilt your head like a dog hearing a strange noise. “What, only one fang?”

“Just as dangerous, princess,” he warns with a smirk, standing up straight.

You swear you see a wink, but then again maybe you’re imagining it. You have been known to exaggerate things in your head. Still your stomach somersaults and you focus your attention on Jennie. “I’m okay. I think I’m gonna chill out here for a bit. Get back in there and dance with… god what was his name? Jackson? Jae-beom?”

“Jin-young,” she corrects before biting her lip and glancing back towards the house.

“Go. Hottie McYoungie won’t wait forever,” you tease and point your thumb over at the man hovering above you. “Don’t worry. I’ll be fine with toothless over here.”

Yoongi rolls his eyes at the nickname but nods at Jennie. The answer seems to be satisfactory and she gifts you with a tight hug. “Text me if you need anything, okay?”

“Okay. Love you. Now go get laid.” You whisper to her before playfully pushing her back. Before you know it she’s scrambling up the steps and slips back inside, tattered dress swinging wildly with the sway of her hips, revealing just enough of her fishnet-clad thighs to draw Yoongi’s attention. There’s a fraction of a second where he wets his lips as he watches her go, but it’s gone in the blink of an eye. You don’t have time to tease because his dark eyes fall to you.

“Is there anything I can do?” His face is stoic but you can hear the sincerity in his tone.

“Wanna take a walk with me? I’d like to keep away from the big crowd.”

“I know the perfect place,” he says, hopping down from the steps and offering you his hand.

You take it with a smile and rise to your feet, carefully moving down the steps as you dust off your butt. The night air is a bit chilly and you start to work your gloves back up your arms to fight the goosebumps forming there.

That’s when you hear it. You want to misread the sound for a flute, recorder, oboe, or even someone’s radio, but you know those are all incorrect assumptions. It’s an ocarina: an ocarina playing a crude rendition of the opening to ‘Gas Pedal.’

Turning slowly, nothing can prepare you for the sight before you. Jungkook stands on the top step of the porch dressed in a green cap and tunic, tan leggings, and the ugliest dark brown boots you’ve ever seen in your life. He’s got the ocarina nestled between his lips, slowly descending each step with a roll of his hips that accentuates the definition of muscles behind the thin material hugging the shape of his legs.

Your eyes are wide, mouth falling open in surprise. “Jungkook?”

As he jumps down the last step he stops the tune and cups the ocarina in his hands, bowing slightly. “Princess.”

“What are you doing?” you ask, biting back the intimidated voice in your head that’s telling you you’re being picked on.

“What does it look like I’m doing?” he asks in a low tone, a crooked smile crossing his features as he takes a few tempered steps towards you.

You swallow. How are you supposed to answer that? You take a deep breath, trying to drive off the urge to run as he advances on you. Yoongi takes a few steps back and folds an arm over his torso, cupping his elbow as he brings a knuckle to rest against his mouth with intrigue. He couldn’t hold out for one more day? Should I step in? He brings his weight to the front of his foot, ready to diffuse the situation.

“It looks like you’re trying to fuck with me.” You stand your ground, clasping your gloved fingers and calmly resting them against your dress in true Zelda fashion.

Yoongi’s weight shifts back, retracting the step he had taken. A direct accusation isn’t exactly something he would have expected from you, but he finds himself pleased nonetheless. He certainly chose a difficult target this time.

Jungkook gets close enough that you can see the tick of his jaw and the part of his lips as he drags his eyes across your form, settling on the cleavage created by your corset. “Some of those words were right.” He pauses, leaning to whisper against the shell of your ear. “Can you guess which ones, Princess?”

Heat consumes your face as his posture straightens. He doesn’t budge past the space he’s already claimed as his, but he doesn’t move forward again to invade yours. He watches, basking in the full on show your face puts on for his own entertainment. First comes the confusion, next realization, and then shame.

It’s hard to tell if he’s coming onto you or picking on you. You swallow, throat growing drier by the second. “You knew I was coming as Zelda. Weren’t you coming as something else?”

He throws his head back enough to feign exasperation while keeping his eyes trained on you. “Come on. You don’t like my costume?”

Instead of giving you time to answer, he brings the ocarina back to his lips and blows an obnoxious amount of air through the hollow space inside, producing a piercing rendition of ‘Talk Dirty to Me.’

Your shoulders raise as you inhale, suppressing the irritation bubbling within your belly. You wince, turning your head as a particularly shrill note escapes the instrument. Yoongi’s expression sours as he plugs both ears with his fingers.

Jungkook immediately stops playing and offers a sheepish grin. “Oops. I learned that one for you. Maybe I need more practice. Do you want to help me?” He briefly pauses to wet his lips, presenting the ocarina to you. “I can show you how to blow.”

You grind your teeth as your jaw ticks back and forth a few times before answering, “No thanks.”

Yoongi silently tents his fingers over his forehead and tries to massage the secondhand embarrassment from his skull. This is a trainwreck waiting to explode and at this point there’s no looking away.

Jungkook raises his eyebrows at you as he stuffs the ocarina into a small brown pouch hanging from the flimsy belt at his waist. “Ah. Sorry, Princess. I don’t mean to insult you. You’ve probably already mastered the art. Hah. Maybe you could show me a thing or two?”

Unable to form a proper response, your lips purse as the wheels in your head spin. Say something clever. Think of a comeback. Something. Come on. But here you stand, mind blanking for even the simplest of clapbacks. You’re having trouble coming to terms with the fact that your innocent little crush on the once “sweet” Kookie has come crumbling down with his facade, leaving your chest aching with the humiliation of your naivety.

He looks you over, admiring the artistry in the gown you’ve lovingly crafted. For a moment he’s lost in the embroidery stitched into the sash swaying in the breeze of a chilly October night. “I love your…” he trails off, eyes darting across your shape to capture every last detail of your attire.

He pays special mind to the gems adorned at your hips, and the heavy-looking chain belt which links the sash to your dress. He marvels over the color and velvet texture chosen for the purple corset at your torso. The sheer attention to detail and craftsmanship in your costume stuns him into silence for half a second.

His eyes reach the perky mounds of flesh peeking over the top of the corset. Miraculously his voice resurfaces. “...costume.”

The way his dark eyes linger on your chest isn’t lost on you. Your cheeks burn in the cool air, despite the goosebumps littering your arms. You cross your arms over your chest, higher than you normally would to combat his lurid gaze. The green hat atop his head folds over itself as he cocks to one side. Dark, hungry eyes snap to yours, voicelessly pouting at your blockade. For a split second a guilty excitement pulses through you, but you’ll be damned if you’re the cause of an obviously already inflated ego.

“You never said what you think of mine,” he prods. His eyebrows wiggle up and down as he slowly runs his hands along his torso, as if feeling himself up is going to sway your opinion.

You tell yourself not to fall for it, that he’s playing you for a fool right now. Still, your jaw is tight as your eyes helplessly follow the flow of his fingers down his body. His pinky purposefully catches on the flimsy pleather strap acting as the belt at his waist. An impish grin spreads across his face as he notes the way your chest stutters out the breath you’d unknowingly held. Satisfied, his hands continue their languid journey down his body. Your eyes are glued to the way he traces the contours of his thighs.

Finally his fingers dig into the meat of his those muscles and you feel the need to look away before answering. “I hate it.”

He sighs. “Hate is a strong word. Are you sure that’s how you really feel? Why don’t you look at me when you say that?”

Strengthening your resolve, you force your eyes back to his smug face. Stupid doesn’t even begin to cover how you’re feeling at this point. Biting back tears, you swallow hard and do your best to remain composed. Here he stands, a crooked smile amplifying the air of arrogance surrounding him. He’s playing you. He’s been playing you this whole time hasn’t he?

“I don’t even know who you really are, do I?” your voice cracks, only adding to your humiliation.

“I’m the bad guy. Duh.” With that he cackles as he pulls the ocarina from his pouch, proceeding to play the melody from ‘Bad Guy.’

You spin on your heels and storm past Yoongi, the blood rushing through your ears in a distraught rage, drowning out the bitter sound of the notes. A pang of guilt strikes the half-assed vampire as he stares at his friend. “One more day. You couldn’t make one more day?”

Jungkook shrugs, making his way back up the stairs. “If you see Hobi, tell him I’ll have his money tomorrow.”

⊱ ────── {.⋅ ✯ ⋅.} ────── ⊰

Dragging your hands across your face, you keep your gaze cast towards the ground.

How fucking idiotic, how self-absorbed have you been to assume that he’s been nice because he likes you and not because he was playing some game with you? He's probably just been waiting for an opportunity like this and you fell right into his trap. Stupid. Stupid. Stupid.

A hand clamps down on your shoulder and you spin, ready to deck the person you assume to be Jungkook. Yoongi's eyebrows raise as you stand poised to punch. He ducks to the side just in time. As you realize your mistake, it's too late. The momentum brings you forward.

His arms come up around you in a soft embrace, one that you're quick to return. "It's just me," he mumbles, kneading his thumb against your back. "...Sorry."

You bury your face into his shoulder, allowing the tiara to slip from your head and hit the soft ground with a dull thud. Why is he apologizing? He didn't do anything wrong. You want to tell him that, but any sound you make might bring about a slew of tears you've been holding back. Instead you just squeeze your arms around him even tighter.

He awkwardly pats your back a few times, not quite knowing what to do with the hug that's lasting longer than anticipated. Sensing his discomfort, you pull away and adjust your wig as you offer an apologetic smile. "I'm sorry."

A figure approaches, bending down to pick up the forgotten adornment. Out of the corner of your eye you see him rub the dirt off the tiara. Jin carefully places it on your head. "A princess should have a crown."

You look him over, noting the giant overalls, red newsboy cap and hideous fake mustache. You can't help but laugh as he forces a hard blink and puckers his lips, alternating lifting sides of his mouth so the mustache comically tweaks itself in a seesaw motion. "I like your costume," you manage between giggles.

He grins back, donning an over-the-top Italian accent. "I a-like-a yours too! A beautiful costume for a beautiful a-woman."

"Please stop," Yoongi groans.

Jin ignores him, fiddling with the corner of his mustache. "I don't-a know where my brother went. I think he's a-scared of the haunted mansion."

You roll your eyes at the joke. That's right. Jungkook was supposed to be Luigi. "He's busy playing a dick for the night."

A look of realization washes over him and he nods, puffing out air through overly inflated cheeks. "Hmm. You know what might-a make you feel better? Helping me scare-a the pants off of people!"

He folds his elbow and holds it out for you, tempting you to lace yours around it. Channeling your bruised ego and hurt feelings into scaring people for fun? That might just work. You feed your elbow through the crook in his. "Zelda and Mario working together."

Jin laughs. "The dream-a team!" He makes a motion to skip towards the outer entrance to the basement that he's dressed up with spiderwebs and a large, hand-made sign that says "MARIO'S GHOST HOUSE." Beside the entrance is a giant blown-up decoration of King Boo, its pink tongue flapping in the breeze.

As you're tugged in the direction of his creation, he stops abruptly. "Oh, we haven't had that many people though. So we have to make the few that come through count!"

Yoongi's eyes light up. "Hey. I’ve got an idea. I’ll get you a the best customer. But you have to really scare him. I promise it will make your night."

Puzzled, you furrow your brows and tilt your head. “Okay…?”

Jin grins like a maniac as Yoongi makes his way towards the front of the house. “Come on. I’ll show you the best spots to hide.”

⊱ ────── {.⋅ ✯ ⋅.} ────── ⊰

About twenty minutes have passed since Yoongi left in search of his promised customer. Only a few people have wandered in. You have to admit it’s therapeutic to watch people scream and jump when you bang on the false walls within the maze Jin has somehow constructed in this basement. Watching people run up the final stairs to safety leaves you with a feeling of satisfaction, always giving Jin a prideful high-five before returning to the beginning to await more guests.

“Ah! My-a new-a guests!” you hear Jin enthusiastically greet the latest people to stop at the entrance. “Are you a-ready to have fun?”

There’s some hushed whispering that you can’t quite make out from your hiding place within the set.

“Don’t be such a pussy,” Yoongi chides loudly. “Seokjin made this. Do you really think it’s that scary?”

“P-Pussy?” Hoseok stares wide-eyed at his friend and scoffs. “Don’t be rude. I just know Seokjin. It will be worse than whatever I think”

Is that Hobi? You were kind of hoping Yoongi would get Jungkook to walk through. Knowing what you do now though, you have no doubt that Jungkook would be unphased by something like this. All you can hear in your head is the echo of his obnoxious laughter and a pang of hurt slices through your heart. God, you’re so stupid.

Yoongi points to the Boo’s tongue flapping in the wind. “It will be like that, probably. It’s silly to be so afraid.”

Hoseok bounces from foot to foot in uncertainty. Even a police uniform can’t steel his spine or guarantee safety. “Why should I do this to myself?”

Yoongi sighs. “I’ll help you look at new places and… help you move. I’ll even be your roommate if the rent is too high.”

Hoseok is beaming. How long has he been asking for help searching? Jin looks from one man to the other, hiding the subtle smile beneath his mustache. He knew Hoseok wouldn’t go in so easily, that something had to be offered up, but he really didn’t expect Yoongi to go so far.

Hoseok points at Jin. “You’re my witness. I go through this and he’s my roommate.”

“If the rent is too high only,” Yoongi tries to reason, but it’s too late. Hoseok has heard what he wants to hear. He grabs his friend and marches into the depths of the basement.

Immediately you bang the walls on their journey down, feeling Jin rush past you to set up for the next scare. Hobi screams. “Never mind! Never mind!”

Yoongi scoffs, dragging his friend forward. “Come on, officer.”

You listen for their footsteps as you circle the walls behind the maze. Hobi’s frantic yelling breaks through the room, slipping into loud curses. You pull your glove up and wait, peeking through the hole you’re hoping he’ll get close enough to. Even shrouded in shadows, Yoongi’s form peeks out from around the corner.

“Don’t think about the dark,” Yoongi says, slowly shuffling towards the wall with Hoseok crouched behind him, using him as a shield from any more scares. “Think about how you bet Jungkook he couldn’t stop himself from trying to get in Y/N’s pants, not even for one month.”

You freeze. Yoongi knows you can hear him, right? He has to know.

“Think about how well he was doing. You would have been cleaning his house tomorrow. Maid Hobi, bound by servitude.”

“I know…” Hoseok groans. “It would have been awful. He’s so messy! I wouldn’t even be getting paid! What was I thinking?”

“But instead, he bet you a month’s rent that he could,” Yoongi continues loudly. “He blew it tonight for the chance to dress up as Link and tease Zelda. He only had one more day.”

“He’s a dumbass,” Hobi comments with a nod, turning to look at the ceiling and making sure nothing is going to drop down on him.

You swallow, taking in the revelation Yoongi has just bestowed upon you. All this time you had spent thinking Jungkook was a sweet gentleman was actually due to Hoseok making a bet with him? You would rather have known Jungkook was a dick straight up because now the innocent, harmless crush you have on him feels so dirty and foul that you wish you could swipe it from existence.

It’s Jungkook’s fault. He lied. He pretended. You know this. But still you can’t help but partially blame Hobi for the bitter taste in your mouth. As Yoongi passes, you reach out, letting your fingers swipe down Hobi’s forearm and retract through the hole in the wall as he lets out a high-pitched scream.

“Hoseok, get off.” Yoongi tries to push away the man climbing onto his back.

“Something grabbed me! Something grabbed me!” Hoseok wraps his legs around Yoongi’s waist and huddles close to his neck pointing. “Over there! It grabbed me from over there!”

“Let’s keep moving, then.”

“No! No more! I’m standing right here until the sun comes up.”

“How is it standing if your feet aren’t touching the ground? I won’t carry you all night,” Yoongi says, adjusting his stance to compensate for the weight on his back.

“You will, too,” he pouts.

Jin helps you position a furry spider decoration above them, slowly dangling it lower until it finally hits Hoseok’s shoulder. The wail that escapes this grown ass man almost makes you feel bad. Almost. He swats the creature into darkness as he spurs Yoongi on by digging his heels into his belly. “Get me out of here! Please!”

Jin’s shoulders move up and down with the sound of his laughter as he slaps your hand in victory. Scaring Hobi made you feel a little better at least.

⊱ ────── {.⋅ ✯ ⋅.} ────── ⊰

The party has died down quite a bit and at this point Jimin has been passing you far too many drinks as he and Namjoon regale you with tales from college. Namjoon is clearly feeling toasty, laughing like a dork at every memory Jimin brings up. Apparently they were roommates and Jimin has a liberal arts degree from four years of being undecided.

Your head lolls around to rest on Namjoon’s shoulder, your backs pressed against the bottom of the couch as Jimin sits cross-legged in sweats and a t-shirt on the floor before you, his costume laying discarded beside him. He’s spinning his latest story of how Namjoon had accidentally thrown up on some girl he really liked. Yoongi silently lays on the couch behind you, smirking with his eyes closed. You can’t tell if he’s sleeping or just relaxing as you struggle to stand, using Namjoon’s shoulder as leverage to prop yourself up.

“Bathroom?” you ask distractedly, searching the room like a door will appear if you look hard enough.

Jimin smiles pointing at the doorway across the room. “Go out that door, take a left down the hall. It’ll be on your right.”

Your head dips a bit as you try to take in the directions. Namjoon looks up at you as you stumble forward, clearly off-balance. “Do you need some help, geeksquad?”

“I’m fine,” you mumble, hating the nickname he’s given you from work. “I’ll be right back. Don’t drink my drink.” You narrow your eyes at Jimin and he blinks at you in surprise, like you’ve accused him of such a heinous, unthinkable crime.

Rounding the corner, you pass a grinning Taehyung being led upstairs by a cute girl in a red beret, black and white striped shirt, and miniskirt with suspenders. Art hoe? Mime? It’s hard to tell what her costume might be. While his skin is covered in a beautiful mess of colors, your tri-force symbol still stands untouched at the center of his chest. You smile as you watch him climb the steps, clearly distracted. But as his back is revealed, your eyes widen at the sight of a mural of painted dicks. Well. At least he can’t see them.

You walk down the hall for what feels like an eternity, passing a few closed doors on either side. Maybe you should try one? Knocking on the one closest to you once, the door swings in and you lose your balance, not expecting it to open.

“What took you so long? I almost came without you.” The voice is pouty and low, somewhat familiar. He gasps when he realizes you’re not the person he’s been waiting for.

You stumble forward, falling to your knees and catching the bed frame before your face smacks into the wood. As graceful as you can manage, you pull yourself up. “Sorry! I didn’t mean to! I didn’t realize it was open and I was just looking for the---” The will to speak leaves you as soon as you see him.

A very sweaty, very naked Jungkook crosses his arms and he leans back expectantly, smushing the pillows behind him into the headboard. Your eyes take in the pleased expression on his face, quickly scanning the muscles of his folded arms, his chiseled abs, his bulging legs. The pointy green hat he had been wearing earlier tents across his sculpted hips and pelvis, thankfully obscuring any shape hidden beneath it.

“I didn’t think I’d see you again tonight,” he says, licking his lips as he watches your form tremble, practically falling apart in front of him before adding, “...Princess.”

A devilish grin overtakes him at the sight of you spinning around a little too fast, staggering towards the door and holding onto the frame for dear life. “I hoped I wouldn’t see you again tonight.”

“I can’t say it isn’t a nice surprise. You don’t have to leave,” he coaxes. “Do you wanna see my Master Sword?”

“Grow up!” You make sure to slam the door shut behind you. You hate him so fucking much it hurts.

⊱ ────── {.⋅ ✯ ⋅.} ────── ⊰

“Jennie, how could I be so wrong about him?” you sigh, dropping your forehead against the kitchen table. It’s been three weeks since you’ve talked to him, but it’s still the only thing you can think about.

Jennie takes a sip from her beer. “Sweetie, you’re not good at reading liars. Maybe you should look at some dating apps. You could get good read quick.”

“But I don’t wanna,” you whine into the coated wood. “Why can’t people just be nice?”

“Because. People suck. Come on, Y/N. Jungkook ain’t worth the headache. Drink with me. I’ll show you how Tinder works. It’s not so bad.”

When you don’t say anything, she tugs your chair across the floor, dragging your form close to hers and setting her phone down on the table. You peek out at the screen as you raise your head and rest it on a lazy elbow.

“Swipe right on the hotties. Swipe left on the fuckboys and losers. Jungkook? He’s a swipe left. But look at all these good ones on here. These are all swipe righties.”

You nod as she goes through a few profiles and begin downloading the app on your phone. Maybe she’s onto something.

#jungkook smut #bts smut #bts fanfic #jungkook fanfic #jungkook fic #bts fic #bts #jungkook fluff #bts fluff #jungkook x reader #jungkook x you

[anjuschiffer]

Amira Wayne - Chapter 17

Another chapter! Woo! And yes, I’m still going on with @biodad-bruce-month event despite being two months since it ended :D

Chapter 17: Villain (2)

WARNING: BLOOD MENTION AND DEATH IN THIS CHAPTER

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P.Tag: @theatreandcomicfreak @damianette-is-life @toodaloo-kangaroo @elijahcrevan @vixen-uchiha @nathleigh

Tag: @we-want-mini-mini @ramos123 @bluesimani @redscarlet95 @greatcatblaze @promiswords @fantasiame @corabeth11 @anonymously-odd @alexandriamw @officiallydarkgeek @galla02006 @maleive07 

-

MASTERLIST | FIRST | PREV | AO3

Something wasn’t right and no, it didn’t take Wally having to see fog outside Amira’s bedroom to know that. 

He had been on the phone with Dick, telling him of Amira’s stress baking when the chilly afternoon became a dark, foggy evening. 

Rolls of mist covered the Parisian roads, people yelling out to each other as they stumbled to find each other. 

“Dick. I have to call you back.” Wally said as he scrambled around the room in search of his suitcase. 

To think he would need Barry’s gift so soon. 

“Back? Wally what is-“ Wally hung up when he found the comms, his eyes darting around the room until he found a box tucked under the desk labeled ‘utilities.’

Rummaging around it, he grabbed some flashlights, batteries and some goggles before heading into the Parisian street. 

He thought the fog was bad from behind the window, but now standing in...it was a nightmare. 

Amira, please...be safe...

Fishing for his phone, Wally quickly scrolled through his contacts until he found Amira’s and began to call it. 

The longer the call rang, the more Wally began to worry. 

When his call didn’t get through, he tried again, turning on the goggles, taken aback at how high tech they were. 

The perks of being rich he guessed. 

When he noticed that the night vision wouldn’t work in this situation, Wally switched over to thermal, running into the school across the street and up the stairs.

“Marinette!” Wally yelled, holding back the urge to yell out her real name. But he knew better than that. 

He knew better than to yell out Amira’s real identity.

“Marinette! Where are you?” Wally yelled out again, looking to see if anyone reacted to the name. That’s when he noticed a heat carefully walked towards the doorway of a classroom on the second floor.

“Hello?” A Parisian asked him, Wally biting his tongue. Damn it!

“Listen, do you speak English?” 

“A little.” The person said back.

“That’s fine. Do you know where Marinette is? Do you know what happened to-”

“She was akumatized!” The person bellowed back, Wally feeling his heart stop.

Amira...Amira is the akuma? She...she got akumatized...by Hawkmoth?

How? This wasn’t part of the plan she told him last night!

Snapping from his spiraling thoughts, Wally cupped his hands around his mouth.

“What caused it?” Wally asked, wondering what the hell happened to Amira that caused her to lose control of her emotions.

What caused her to snap?

“She had a little argument over a boy with her classmate. About a boy named...Jason.”

Holy shit.

“No, no, no, no.” Wally muttered to himself, digging his hands into his hair, hating the answer to his questions.

“Are you-” The person asked, Wally seeing them almost hit with the balcony in front of them.

“Stop! Don’t leave the classroom! Stay in there and wait for La-Chat Noir and the team to arrive.” Wally managed to say, his brain running through every possible situation to help him cope with the idea that Amira was somewhere out there, distorted by her emotions…

Alone..dealing with emotions she never liked lingering in for too long...walking with her baggage of pain...and guilt…

Wait...the person said she was arguing with someone who knew Jason...but how was that possible?

“-can do for you?” Wally managed to register, running up the stairs and walked into the classroom, shutting the door behind him.

“I need you to tell me what exactly happened before Marinette got akumatized and don’t you dare try to cover up any details. If you do…” Wally closed his eyes and took a deep breath, hoping he wouldn’t jinx the situation. “This akuma may become your livelihood for a very long time and not only that...this maybe be the Miraculous Team’s last fight and be Hawkmoth’s victory.”

---

Adrien held Chloe close as she continued to grip at his shirt, her body shaking violently as she muttered incoherent words. Tears ruined her makeup, her eyes bloodshot red as Chloe remained curled against Adrien’s shirt.

“Adrikins...you’re still there...right?”

“I’m still here.” Adrien assured, hugging Chloe closer to him.

“Maman and Daddy… I saw them die before my eyes. And I saw Sabrina and Mari...they..they also-”

“You don’t have to tell me.” Adrien hushed, turning to where Plagg was despite not being able to see anything but his glowing green eyes.

After Mari-Banshee caused Chloe to collapse and then disappeared from his sight, Adrien ordered Nino and Sabrina to head back to the class while he took care of Chloe.

Carefully dragging her to the locker room, Adrien began to softly talk to her, holding her hands as he tried to think of a way to lessen the effect of Banshee’s power on Chloe so that he could-

“-help her.” Cloe muttered out, Adrien feeling her hesitantly push herself away from him. “Go help her, Adrien.”

“Chloe, you aren’t-”

“But she needs more help than me Adrien.” Chloe echoed. “I know this will go away once the akuma is found, but right now...we need to do something about the akuma. Who knows how long Ladybird will get here and get rid of the akuma, but we’re here. You’re here.”

Adrien felt as Chloe untangled her hand from his. “I can’t do anything, but you can. You can help de escalate the situation and you even know who she is after. So please...help her Adrien...she’s our friend...who knows how long she can endure it…”

Adrien bit his lip, feeling Plagg settle back into Adrien’s pocket inside his jacket.

“I’ll try Chloe. I’ll try.”

Giving Chloe’s hand a squeeze, Adrien slowly makes his way back to where he last saw Marinette, holding back a scream that nestled in his throat.

“Kid. We need to hurry.” Plagg reminded him. “Because Chloe was right. We don’t know how long it will take Ladybird to find Marinette so we need all hands on-”

“I know Plagg.” Adrien cut off, digging his nails into his palms. “Plagg, claws out!”

---

Dick paced around his apartment, putting his phone to his ear as he attempted to call both Wally and Amira, only to get sent to voicemail. 

Huffing, Dick was about to call again when Tim called first. 

“Tim, can this-“

“This is urgent.”

“Tim, I’m trying to-“

“Something wrong is happening in Paris right now. Just open the link I sent you right now.”

With Tim hanging up, Dick got a message and opened it, watching a Parisian news station play on his screen. 

“Nadja Chamack. Don’t bemused, it’s just the news. As you can see, it’s currently XX:XX and yet-“ Then the camera pans to show the conditions outside. “Our once sunny December day became a foggy night, our reporters are trying to- what? An akuma?” 

The station then transitioned into a live feed of what seemed to be a figure walking within the fog. 

“This just in! Turns out that this is the result of Hawkmoths most recent akuma! So everyone who is watching, under no circumstance, do not leave the premises you are-“

Nadja went on to talk about akuma protocol when Dick notices something oddly familiar about the figure that walked within the live video. 

That bracelet on her hand…

Dick felt his heart sink to his stomach. 

Grabbing some keys and his bike, Dick began making phone calls again, hating that no one was picking up... 

Or so he thought. 

“Selina? Yes... I need a favor.”

—-

Wally slammed his fist against the teacher’s desk, hearing a few gasps escape from the students in the class. 

Damn that Lila. Can’t even face the consequences of her own actions. 

“Did you idiots seriously not think something was wrong when someone you knew was acting unusual? Even if they weren’t your friend, when someone isn’t acting like themselves, that means you should be concerned.” Silence filled the room. Wally recomposed himself. 

This was no time to lecture these idiots. Right now I have to track down both Marinette and Lila Rossi. “Does anyone know where Lila would have run off to?”

When he got nothing but silence for an answer, Wally held his composure. “Okay so no one actually knows this girl. Fine. I’ll look for her my-“

“Shouldn’t you leave this to Ladybird and her team?” The teacher spoke, Wally really wondering how dependent Parisians have become on their ‘heroes’ taking action first. 

“My best friend has been akumatized and we haven’t heard a single update about the situation from the Parisian vigilantes. My thoughts? The Miraculous Team is having trouble finding either person and if I can at least help to locate Marinette, then so be it. 

I’m not going to stand here and just depend on the vigilantes when I know I can actually do something to help.”

Walking towards the door, he stopped. “I suggest you guys find a way to deal with the mist inside this classroom. Perhaps turn the ventilation system on or something. You rather be able to see each other can keep each other company rather than not knowing what’s going on in the very room you think you’re safe in.”

With that, Wally dashed out the room, not noticing two other people walk behind him. 

—-

Lila stumbled as she ran away from the thing that was supposed to be Marinette.

That creature dressed in an ombre dress that transitioned from white to black and whose eyes haunted her was no Marinette!

That was a creature straight from tales she used to hear from the nanny that took care of long ago.

A banshee.

Lila held in a whimper as tears filled her eyes as she heard the akumatized Marinette’s hums, hums that fluctuated between her name being shrieked and soft wails. 

“Lila.” She would whisper in a hoarse voice, causing Lila to run even more. “Where are you?”

Lila turned a corner and scrambled to hide behind a dumpster, collapsing her hands over her mouth as she heard Marinette slowly make her way towards her.

Lila shut her eyes tight as she heard the hum grow louder, Lila hating that the hum kept getting louder by the second.

The hum was now right at the corner Lila had finished turning when it came to a halt.

With the foggy streets and the humming coming to a stop, Lila could hear her footsteps nice and clear, listening as her heels clicked and clacked as Marinette walked on the cobblestone street. 

Lila didn’t dare to move, she didn’t dare breath as she kept hearing those dreading footsteps. She did, however, wish she had another set of hands as a piercing shriek, in the form of her name, rang throughout the Parisian streets.

Lila didn’t know what happened next as the shriek caused her ears and head ring, her vision becoming muddled as Lila attempted to open her eyes.

She wishes she had not.

As she fluttered her eyes open, bloodshot red eyes looked back at her, a thin smile directed at her.

“Here you are.” Marinette sang in her raspy voice.

Lila felt herself begin to violently shake as Marinette helped her get up by grabbing her wrists. “You know, you didn’t have to make up all those lies to get the class to like you. They just love to throw themselves to anyone if it meant gaining a new friend. They’re just so open hearted like that.

Of course, those types of people are the type whom I’m not fond of, so I steered away from them.

Sadly, you thought lying to them was the best course of action instead of checking to see if you had to lie or not to get their adoration. I could only assume you thought this was the best course of action as it's been your main way of getting attention.

Sadly, you have to pay for your actions this time ‘round. 

Didn’t your mother teach you that every action has a consequence?”

Lila watched as Marinette let go of her hands.

“While they might forgive you for lying to them, I will not. You disparage my brother’s name and for that, you shall pay, Lila Rossi.”

She grabbed hold of Lila’s hand, Lila letting out a deathly scream as her hand went ablaze, watching as Marinette’s veil turned pitch black in color.

“Pay for your lies, for your manipulations and schemes.”

Lila felt her other hand go ablaze and soon her heart began to burn, screaming her lungs out as she watched her get swallowed by the ground.

She screamed and cried as she clawed to bring herself back up to the surface, only to feel cold hands pull her down.

“This is your punishment, Lila Rossi. Suffer like I have at the loss of my dear brother.”

The last thing Lila saw before being pulled underground was Marinette’s veil and dress turn pitch black, a vivid black she had never seen before.

Black just like the void that swallowed her, a black that was the only thing Lila could see for miles around her.

She didn’t know for how long she kept screaming, how long she was crying but she knew for quite some time as her throat grew dry. It became itchy, her eyes stinging and she started to grow cold. 

She began to walk through the darkness, not daring to stretch out her arms in fear that she may attack her once again. 

That’s when she saw him. 

Standing there, in the darkness, was a man with olive green eyes and chestnut hair staring back at her.

A man she knew...

“Papà?” She said hoarsely. 

She watched as the man looked at her with a smile, opening up his arms, welcoming her. 

With a warbling smile, Lila ran to her father, only for him to disintegrate upon her touch. 

“Papà!” Lila screeches, running after the dust. Why? Why?!

“Lila.” She heard her mother say monotonously, causing Lila to promptly shut up and stop pathetically trying to get her father back. 

She slowly turned to her side, having to look up to see her mother’s pale face. 

Was she always this tall? 

Looking at herself, Lila realized she was holding her mother's hand and standing before her father’s grave. 

She was 9 again. 

9...“You can’t keep crying mia stella. We have to keep moving, no matter what. It’s what he would have wanted us to do.”

“Yes, Mamma.” Lila complied, watching as the two walked from the grave, watching how the grave quickly got invaded by thorn covered vines with each step she took. “Bye, Papà.”

.

“Bastarda! Bastarda!” The boys chanted as they circled her, Lila covering her ears, shutting her eyes as she crouched towards the floor. 

“Smettila! [Quit it!]” Lila yelled, holding in tears as she heard the girls in her class whisper and snicker about her. 

It wasn’t her fault that her mother couldn’t afford the latest clothing, the latest car or anything new for that matter. 

If only her mother were more than just a secretary. If only her mother were someone important. 

How she hated that they were able to see through her lies. 

She could hear the laughter ringing around her, the chants of her being a bastard and bugiarda [poor] echoing in her mind. 

She watched as smeared faces of her past circled around her, laughing at her and began to sing. 

“Delilah! Delilah! Delilah the liar!”

“Shut up!” Lila screamed, but it went ignored. 

The faces continued to sing and ridicule her, Lila screaming until she couldn’t anymore. 

---

Chat looked out to the city below him, clicking his tongue when he wasn’t able to see anything below despite being at the very top of the Eiffel Tower.

Taking out his staff, Chat called Queen Bee, only to be sent directly to voicemail. He tried again, this time using their other mode of communication.

When he heard a click, Chat was about to talk when Bee beat him to it.

“I’m down Chat.’

“What?”

“I was in the area when the akuma struck. I tried to apprehend the Victim, but she got to me first. I don’t think I can...I don’t think I can fight in my condition Chat.”

Chat huffed, picking up a shriek in the distance. Narrowing his eyes, Chat started to sprint to the direction of which the shriek came from. 

“Have you heard anything from Ladybird?” Chat asked, almost crashing into someone when he got to the ground. “I tried calling her, but-”

“I didn't get anything from her…” Chat heard a shuddering of breath from the other side. “Do you think...do you think the Victim got to her?”

“Let’s hope she didn’t.” Chat said, realizing where he was. Extending his staff, he went straight to their usual training grounds, glad to be up high again. “After all, she’s the only one who can reverse all of this.

Without her, we’re screwed.”

“I know Chat...I know. But what are you going to do without me? Without her? You need allies now more than ever Chat! Without them, who knows how long it will take to defeat this Victim!”

“I’ll find a way Bee, don’t you worry. For now, rest up. We’ll win this fight, you’ll see. We won’t let Hawkmoth win, not on our watch.”

With that, Chat hung up and mumbled a ‘claws in.’

“Did we-hey! Isn’t the reason why I give you my power to-”

“Plagg, you mentioned a Master Fu before.” Adrien cut off, handing some camembert towards Plagg. “You need to take me to him. I need to-”

“I know.” Plagg said, swallowing the cheese whole. “Something tells me you might need his help for this fight.”

“Thank you, Plagg.” Adrien said, eyeing a bag of utilities nearby. He rummaged through it before finding what he needed. 

Plagg eyed the grappling hook in Adrien’s hands, wondering if he should tell him or not.

Should he? Should he tell him that Ladybird wasn’t going to come? That she was the Victim this time ‘round?

“Alright then, follow me!” Plagg said with a smile.

No, he shouldn’t tell him. Who knows what might happen if the kid would be at risk of also getting akumatized and that he couldn’t risk.

Not his kitten...not on his watch.

---

Black.

That is what Amira first saw when she barely came to her senses.

Amira felt herself walking, watching as something else took over her body.

Is this what every Victim felt like when they got akumatized by Hawkmoth?

Amira tried to move her arms, or attempted to stop herself from walking, but to no avail.

She kept walking to who knows where, hearing herself hum as she did, humming as she was looking for someone…but who?

The humming continued, Amira wondering why it resonated so much with her. 

Amira listened to the hum, closing her eyes and soaking in the melodies as the hum continued, 

---

Wally stood still as he barely made out the figures of the neatly aligned parked cars on either side of the road. Not a single person was in the street, not a single piece of paper dared to flutter within the dense fog.

Only the dim lights of the streetlights and of a few store lights allowed Wally to know where he was.

“Marinette!” He screamed, holding his breath as he strained his ears for any type of noise. When he heard nothing, he walked a few meters before standing still again and calling out for Marinette.

He kept doing his for what seemed an hour until Wally found himself right by the Seine. 

The moment he stepped onto the Pont des Arts, he heard the faintest of hums, Wally feeling the edge of his lips begin to turn upward.

“Marinette!” He yelled out, but got nothing in return.

Sprinting to the other side of the bridge, Wally was glad to hear the humming grow louder, but hated that he had yet to see Amira.

“His chirps brightened my days

Talks that would last for hours

My jay, my jay.”

“Amira!” Wally yelled, his head swinging from side to side in hopes of seeing her, but nothing. 

The quiet Parisian street taunted him, the rolling fog egging him to follow the only clue he had of tracking Amira. 

“One day after you left

For you I did wait

Another gentle night like no other.”

Wally quickly began to follow the song, hating that no type of heat was registering through the goggles.  

“I awaited for your arrival

But a visit I did not get

As I approached the window

I saw you there...

There you were.”

Wally felt like he was running towards nowhere, seeing as he had been running in the same direction for a while. 

“On the ground

Your blue feathers now dyed red

Your flight towards me

Was a flight towards another place.”

Just where the hell was he?!

“Goodbye my Jay...goodbye.” 

As those last words were said, the fog started to lift up a bit, Wally turning to see Amira staring back at him through her black veil. 

Her eyes were a dull emerald, her hair long and straight just like it was when they were younger. She wore a black lace dress that seemed to sparkle under the dim Parisian streetlights. 

“Wally. You’re alright.” Amira said, walking up to him, stroking his cheek with the back of her hand. He felt his breath hitch. “Are you hurt anywhere?”

I’m more worried about you.

“I’m fine.” Wally tried to hold her hand when she pulled it away.

“That’s good.” Her hand returning to her side, averting her gaze from him and biting her lip. “What about Chloe? Is she doing alright? I didn’t mean to hurt her like that.”

Wally gulped. She had used her power on Chloe? 

Were those tear trails running down her face?

“She’s doing alright. She’s still under your power, but she isn’t as in much pain as she was before.” Wally lied, holding her wrists in his hands, ignoring the pain her got from placing pressure over her bracelet.  

So it’s her hands he has to be wary of…more specifically, her palms.

“What about the rest of my team? Do they know where I am?” Amira asked him, Wally biting the side of his cheek.

“I think one of them might know where you are. As for the rest, I do not know.”

“I see.” Amira said, looking back at Wally, turning away from him.

“Where are you going?” Wally asked her, watching as her veil flared out a bit. He watched as a grin emerged from her once stoic face.

“I’m going to go check on Lila. You should’ve seen the look on her face as she succumbed to my punishment.”

“Amira, what have you done?” Wally almost growled out, noticing the small rips on her dress, how it seemed to merge with the shadows.

“She got the punishment she deserved. Right about now, she should be screeching her heart out.”

“How...how could you do something like that Amira?” Wally yelled, tightening his grasp on her wrists. “Vengeance isn’t the way to-”

“This was the only way to make her pay for trying to use Jason’s name for her own personal gain! Every action has a consequence, whether it be a good one or a bad one.”

“Amira, can’t you see-”

“If you are here to stop me, then don’t. I already made up my mind.” Amira tried to jerk her hands from Wally’s grasp, but couldn’t. He wouldn’t let her escape, not when she was right in front of him.

“Amira, please! Think-”

“I have. And this,” she lifted her arm ever so slightly, the corners of her mouth curving upwards as her palms hovered over Wally’s wrists. “This is my answer.”

WARNING: BLOOD AND DEATH AHEAD

Placing her palms on Wally, Wally screamed in agony as he collapsed to the floor, his hands grasping on his shirt, his knuckles turning white as his head and chest began to ring in pain.

Wally watched as his vision flickered between seeing Amira walking away from him in her black dress and her yelling out his name as she was being pulled away from him.

Wally watches as she tries to crawl back at him, as she claws at the ground as she’s being pulled away by purple miasma. 

Her nails are scratched, her skin peeling off her fingers as she tries to hold onto loose cobblestones on the ground.

She screams for him, her tears merging with the blood that trailed from her head, mixing with the dirt on her face.

Cuts, both new and old were scattered, dried blood seeping from her mouth.

She manages to get up before she’s thrown back to the floor, a scream escaping from her.

“Amira!” Wally yells, trying to reach for her as he feels tears slip from his eyes. He watches as Amira stares at him one last time before her head limps forward, her hair draping over her face.

Wally feels himself stop breathing, raising his head as he sees Joker above her. 

Why? Why were they back at Gotham?

His eyes register the crowbar in his hand, covered in blood...Amira’s blood...

Blood that dripped from the same hands that killed his friend, the same feral clown that looked down at him with his feral smile and crooked yellow teeth.

Wally let out a scream as he watched Joker walk away, leaving Amira’s corpse on the floor.

Managing to find the strength to get up, Wally ran next to Amira’s limp body, only for it to turn into mist upon lifting it.

Wally watched as the illusion merged with the mist around him, the mist slipping through his fingers as he watched his surroundings return him to the present...to Paris..

“Illusions…” Wally said, finding himself laughing as he ran one hand through his hair while the other pulled at it, feeling himself still shaking...

This is exactly why he wasn’t very fond of magic...

END

---

Nino jumped when he felt a hand on him, feeling his racing heart relax upon seeing Master Fu.

After having left the classroom when the mystery guy had run out, Nino tried to look for Ladybird, hoping to once again help his friend. But he had been running for hours, not seeing a single person at all as he searched for the Miraculous Team or Banshee.

“Master Fu, what are you-”

“You know clearly why I am here.” Fu said, slipping off the Turtle from his hand, Nino stretching out his hand towards him. “Ladybird and Queen Bee are down for this match, leaving Chat on his own.”

Nino couldn’t believe that. Chat...was on his own? Ladybird and Queen Bee...were out of commission? How?

Placing the bracelet into Nino’s hand, Master Fu closed it and looked at Nino. “Now go.”

“But Master Fu! How are-”

“The two of you are not alone.” Master Fu clarified. “Gris is to join you alongside a new ally. With you four, you must do what it takes to defeat this akuma. If not,” Master Fu lowered his gaze. “Hawkmoth might just get his hands on several miraculous tonight.”

Nino gulped, feeling unspeakable pressure pushing down on him. 

Looking down at the bracelet, Nino furrowed his brows, slipping it on. Wayzz appeared before him, smiling at him.

“Don’t worry Master Fu. I will do what it takes to protect my team, the miraculous and the people of Paris! I will not let Hawkmoth win! Wayzz, shell on!”

---

Chat’s ears twitched when he heard a thud from behind him, turning to see Carapace walking towards him.

“About time you came.” Chat said, greeting Carapace. Gris waved at the turtle hero who returned the gesture.

“Master Fu mentioned having a new member. So, where are they?”

“A new user?” Gris asked, wondering why she didn’t get the memo.

“I would like to introduce you two to our newest member.” 

The three turned to where Chat gestured, watching as a person with golden horns emerged from the doorway that led to their training grounds on the Montparnasse Tower. 

“Hello everyone. My name is Ryuuko, wielder of the Dragon miraculous. I hope to be of some help.”

“Woah, she has a whole katana by her side! Is that allowed?” Carapace asked, stretching to see the black sheath that held the katana.

“Carapace. Focus.” Chat stern said. “It’s our job to deal with this akuma as soon as possible. As you know, Queen Bee is down and Ladybird might be due to her absence. 

For this to be a success, Ryuuko, you are in charge of finding a way to lift up this fog to help with the search. Gris, multiply and scatter yourself around the city for any hints of where the akuma might be.” 

“Got it.” “Roger that!” Ryuuko and Gris said, jumping off to complete their tasks.

“What about us?” Carapace asked.

“I want you to look for Lila Rossi. She’s who the akuma is after.”

“Right. But what about you?”

“I’ll keep searching around this area. Something tells me to stay put.” Chat said. 

He watched as Carapace nodded, leaving him by himself.

Chat looked out towards the city, wondering if he was up to the job, if he was able to shine a candle to Ladybird, now that she was nowhere to be found. Would he be able to save Chloe? Marinette?

Sighing, Chat looked up to the sky, shutting his eyes firmly.

“What should I do, what should I do...Mom?”

NEXT

#maribat #amira wayne

[nicb0723]

Find Your Worth

John Wick x Reader

Summary: You meet John in an unconventional way.

Notes: Depression trigger warning 

Word Count: 11,754

Read Chapter 1

Chapter 2

**

Before work you go grocery shopping and run some errands. You clean up a lot and wonder how the hell John’s personality will fit in your tiny apartment. He doesn’t say much but he can be so intense. You can’t imagine the two of you together, alone, in this tiny space. 

In the bathroom you hesitate as you pick up your prescription. The doctor thought it would take the edge off your anxiety, and make the depression manageable. She also made sure you were seeing someone for therapy.  For now, the pill once a day does work. You can breathe. You can function. You’d be a fool to think all of your problems would disappear overnight. You still have a long road of recovery ahead, but this makes it less overwhelming. You place the little plastic container in the medicine cabinet, somewhere John won’t see it. You wouldn’t put it past him if he snooped, but in a way you're proud that you were able to talk about your problems and get some help. 

At work Sam is with you and currently making fun of your limp after you tell him why there’s a bruise on your foot. He’s asking if you want him to go buy you a cane when John waltzes in, hair slicked back and suit jacket blowing from the wind. How someone can look like a model in a gas station you’ll never know. He stares until you go to him and ask what the hell he’s doing here.

“Getting gas.” He answers and reaches for his wallet.

You don’t say anything and ring him up, glancing outside to his car parked in spot one. 

Sam is watching you two interact and he has the biggest grin on his face. Is that your boyfriend? He mouths behind John’s back and you cough in shock. No, and yeah right, like you could ever get a guy like John in a million years. 

“Hello!” Sam says loudly and teasingly bumps your hip with his behind the counter. 

John raises an eyebrow and glances to you first, then nods to Sam. “Hi.”

“John, this is Sam my co-worker and Sam, this is John my um… friend?”

True surprise flickers in John’s brown eyes and he looks pleased, a slow small smile spreads on his lips. 

“She’s actually my boss, but nice to meet you.” Sam says and his attention is drawn to the classic car outside and the gushing begins. 

You let the two of them talk until you hear John offer to show him the engine and they both move to go outside. “Hey, I’ll see you later?” 

Sam smirks and you nod at John, wondering how he knows where you live. It’s a little weird that he broke into your place just to fix a leaking faucet and he was in your apartment without you even knowing.  In the back of your mind, you think that it’s actually pretty thoughtful. You mindlessly wonder why he would waste his time though. Why he would do any of the things that he did. He said that he would help anyone in the same situation as you, but you’ve been thinking about that question since the day at the lake, and you’re too scared to ask him. You’re scared to see the look on his face, the look of pity because that’s all you can think that he’ll say. 

You hear John’s car peel away and Sam comes back inside, still grinning like an idiot. 

“What?” You ask, not really wanting to know.

“Nothing.” Sam hops up on the counter and he knows he’s not supposed to sit there. “I think he likes you.”

“And what makes you say that.” You deadpan, pushing at his butt with the tip of your pen.

Sam slides down and knocks over a display of gum. “He told me to look out for you.”

“Oh yeah? I can see you’d be very threatening.” You point to the packs of gum all over the floor. 

He bends down and starts to pick up the mess. “What’d you need looking out for anyway?”

“Nothing, he's just being protective I guess.”

Sam looks at you with concern. “From what?”

“Nothing. I promise, okay?”

For the rest of the night Sam shows you his karate moves and chops up air until closing time. 

**

John is folded up in the corner of your couch with his legs crossed at the knees and his black leather shoe tapping your coffee table. He’s reading one of the old magazines you have laying around. 

“How was work?” He asks, folding the magazine shut, like this is the most normal thing in the world. 

You check the locks on your door to see if they’re broken, but they’re not. You turn the handle again to make sure the door is shut all the way. 

“I should probably give you a key if you’re going to let yourself in.” 

John shrugs. “If you want.” 

Tossing your purse on the kitchen table you make your way to the living room and sit on the chair across from the couch. John looks so out of place, but you can tell he’s trying to blend in, make himself belong in your little apartment. 

“Who’s taking care of your dog while you’re here?” You ask, kicking your feet up. 

“Pooch? The little girl next door. She loves him.”

You let out a surprised laugh. “Don’t tell me you actually named him Pooch. I don’t even think that’s an actual word, I think my grandma made it up.”

John shrugs again you can tell he’s definitely not a man to waste any words. “It stuck. It’s... cute.”

“Cute? I can’t see you thinking anything is cute.” You grin and stand up to take your jacket and shoes off to get more comfortable. You can hear him mutter something under his breath, but can’t catch it.  “So do we know if Max is officially out yet?” 

“No, I’m waiting for the call though. I’ll know as soon as it happens.”

You don’t have any doubt.  “Do you want something to eat or drink?” You open the refrigerator for some juice. ”I usually have a snack when I get home. Feel free to take anything you want.” 

John tries to settle back on the couch but he seems stiff. “I’m fine, thanks.”

“You can take off your tie and your jacket at least. You’ll probably be here for awhile.” You call out to him, your head sticking in the cupboard looking for the popcorn you put in there earlier. 

John doesn’t move and you gesture for him to get up as you crawl back in your chair with a bag of food. 

“You sure about that?”

“Yes of course I’m sure. Why would I not be sure?” You look at him like he’s crazy as he slowly stands and oh… that’s why.

The suit jacket comes off and he carefully lays it over the side table. His slender waist is circled with a large utility belt with three guns, two clips, and probably a knife. The sight makes your eyes widen. He stares at you as he slowly unfastens the buckle and gently places it on top of his jacket. 

“Don’t go near that.” He points sternly and sits back down, this time more comfortable. He takes his cell phone out of his pocket and sets it on the couch next to him. 

“Definitely not. Are you planning on using any of that?”

“Scare tactic.” 

Silence fills the room as you crunch on your popcorn and you’re actually feeling pretty tired. You’d like to go to bed, but you’re not sure what John’s plans are exactly. 

“So how is this going to happen?” You ask.  “Are you going to come to work with me too? Are you going to run my errands with me? I mean, I’d love the company but I don’t see you wandering around Target for an hour.”

“I don’t mind going to Target with you.” His voice is so serious you can’t help but smile. “I don’t think he’ll come around during the day though. He wants you alone. Scared. Vulnerable. And I have my cop friend keeping an eye on you at work. It’s on his beat anyway.”

“Okay.” That all sounds reasonable. Dread and doubt suddenly take hold of you. “Look, maybe I’m wrong? Maybe he won’t bother with me and we can just forget about it? Maybe there’s nothing to worry about at all.”

John shakes his head. “I read his record. It’s not good.”

Well, crap. You don’t want to talk about Max anymore and you don’t want to ask the one question that’s been hounding your mind. You’re still too scared to know the reason John is here, so you ask something else. “Are you ever going to sleep? You can’t stay up all night waiting.”

“I’ll sleep until I know he’s out.” John says easily. “Then after that I have motion detection alerts on my phone from the camera outside your floor.”

You blink at him. “There are cameras on the door of the elevator?”

“There are now.”

“How’d that happen?” You’ve never noticed any security cameras anywhere. 

“I talked to Francis, the apartment manager. He’s a nice guy.”

You blink at him again. “I know, but he only speaks Russian. How’d you talk to him?”

John smirks and says, “Bez truda.” 

It’s all a little too much and you get up, shaking your head in disbelief. “How is this my life right now? How do I get myself into these things? I have an assassin in my apartment… I’m going to take a shower!” You announce after a minor anxiety attack. “Feel free to turn on the TV, get comfortable, whatever you want.”

The water feels good as you scrub away the day. It relaxes you until swarming thoughts of John sitting on your couch make you hurry out of the tub and wrap yourself in the flannel bathrobe you always wear. Before you lose your nerve you walk back into the living room and find John where you left him, now looking at his phone. 

“They’re just starting to process paperwork. That means it’ll be a few hours.” John’s talking, but doesn’t look up. You start to brush your wet hair out and twist it loosely on top of your head for the night. Usually you’d smear face cream all over but that obviously is not going to happen. 

“Look, John. I know we hardly know each other, but you can sleep in the bed, okay?” You start to turn off the kitchen lights and check the front door one more time to make sure it’s locked. “It’s plenty big enough and I would just feel better.”

He’s looking at you with warm eyes now, his mouth open but nothing is coming out. It’s like his brain turned a switch and decided something important. Whatever he’s thinking must be big because his whole demeanor changes. You can’t quite figure it out, but he seems content to be here with you, where just a few moments ago he had a guard up and was struggling with something on his mind. Somehow and unknowingly, you sense that you’ve just started to break down his wall.  You have no idea what you did, you’re just being yourself, but for the first time John is vulnerable. He’s blinking slowly, as if he’s seeing you for the first time in a new light, or finally giving himself permission to really see you.

It doesn’t matter though, because you know you look like a complete dork in your bathrobe and suddenly you feel incredibly stupid. Shame floods your stomach and you almost feel sick. Of course, this man wouldn’t want to be in the same bed as you. He’d probably rather die. You can’t believe you even suggested it. Also, your therapist would be terribly disappointed in you for talking down to yourself like this. 

“Okay.”

“Okay?” 

He stands up and grabs a small leather bag you hadn’t seen by the widow. “Yes. If it’ll make you feel safer.” 

No. No. That’s not how you wanted it to happen. You wanted John to want to sleep in the bed, not because you asked him. “Listen, I didn’t mean… I’ll take the couch, okay? You probably don’t want to share the bed with me, I totally understand. And you’re doing me a favor and I just want you to be comfortable.”

Utter confusion crosses his handsome face. He scratches at his beard with long fingers, trying to make sense of what you want. “What good would that do? With you sleeping on the couch?”

You stammer and can feel a flush develop on your cheeks. “I just thought… I don’t know.”

“If you rather, I can book you a room in a hotel for a few nights. I won’t… do anything to you. I can promise you that.”

Oh God. This conversation could not get any worse. You’re horrified that he thinks something like that and you try terribly to explain. “No, no that’s not what I meant. I don’t want to go to a hotel. I just meant that um, you probably don’t want to share a bed with someone like me.” 

“Someone like you?”

The flush is creeping up to your neck as you become more embarrassed. You point at your bathrobe and general dorkiness. “Yeah, like someone… not… exactly… uh… cute?”

He seems to realize what you’re trying to say and laughs a little. “Well it’s a good thing there’s no one not cute in this apartment. I don’t know how I could ever sleep.” He walks towards you and gently tucks the hair that had fallen in your eyes behind your ears. It’s very intimate and you feel yourself start to smile. “Can we go to bed now?” He moves his arm out for you to lead the way and you feel silly. John is a nice guy. Even if he really didn’t want to sleep in the same bed as you, he probably still would because it’s what you wanted. 

“Yeah, sorry.” You mumble and walk into the bedroom with him following. There’s not much clutter and it’s pretty bare besides the newly bought self help books on the nightstand and regular girly stuff littered on the dresser. John throws his bag on the floor and you grab some pajamas for yourself, heading to the bathroom to change. 

When you come back John is wearing a white t-shirt and soft blue sleep pants. He’s incredibly adorable and you can’t believe your luck of having him in your room right now. He must’ve grabbed his phone and weapons because they’re both on the nightstand on his side of the bed.

He looks you up and down in your tank top and shorts as you plop on the mattress, quickly getting under the covers. 

“This okay?” He asks and points to his own clothes. Was he expecting for you to want him to sleep in his suit?

“Yeah of course. But...  can you fight in pajamas?��� You wrinkle your nose and tease him. “That’s not very assassin-y.”

He barks out a laugh and lays down, but he doesn’t get under the sheets. His feet are bare and long, and you keep peeking at his toes.  “I think it’ll be fine.”

You roll over and face him. He’s looking up at the ceiling with his arms crossed behind his head. 

“I can’t believe you’re here right now.”

He doesn’t move. “Why?”

Your eyes start to become heavy and you watch his chest move up and down in slow rhythmic breaths. “People don’t usually do nice things for me. I’m used to being on my own.”

With that he shifts on his side, towards you.  His hair falls in his eyes and you long to brush it away. “I can tell.”

“I don’t like asking for help.”

“You never asked me for anything.” John points out. There’s plenty of space between the both of you and flop your arm towards his side, pointing at him teasingly.

“Oh, I distinctly remember asking you to do one very specific thing and you failed.”

He squirms from the quick stabs of your pointer finger at his ribs. “I don’t know, I think things turned out pretty perfect.”

You scoff and roll to your stomach now, sliding your arms under the pillow. “Perfect? Yeah right, I’m sure this is the last place you want to be.”

“It is perfect. This bed is very comfortable.” John finally gets under the blankets and you giggle sleepily. His cologne is stirred by his movement and you savor the spicy smell. 

“It’s new. I got a raise at work. I’m an assistant manager now.” You tell him proudly, even though you know it’s not that big of an accomplishment.

“Oh excuse me, Miss Assistant Manager.” John smiles and acts extremely impressed. “Congratulations, by the way. I should take you out to celebrate.”

You have no idea if he’s serious or not so you just laugh and snuggle down more into the bed. After a minute you ask, “Do you think Max will come tonight?”

John pauses, thinking. “Hard to say. He doesn’t have a good past. He has friends in high places who will probably help him. How’d you meet a guy like that anyway?”

“How is that you know my name, where I live, my phone number, where I work, what car I drive… literally everything about me and you don’t know that?”

John brushes the hair from his eyes and you can see the tan line around his ring finger has started to finally fade. “That’s just part of the job.”

“Fixing leaking water faucets is part of being an assassin?” You ask, teasing again.

A sweet pink flush spreads on John’s cheeks. “Shush.” 

“That’s what I thought.”

He pretends to glare. “Maybe it is. You don’t know.” 

“You’re right, I don’t know.” You yawn and let your eyes fall close. “Can I tell you tomorrow though? I’m gonna pass out.”

You hear the click of the side lamp turn off and you want to stay awake, to soak in this moment a little more but sleep is overpowering and you drift off into a peaceful rest. 

**

Until about two o’clock in the morning, and then you start to toss and turn. You swear there’s a noise out in the living room but you also know you’re probably being paranoid. You can see the shape of John’s body just a few inches away and you want to reach over to him. 

“Hey.” He whispers and his voice startles you still. “Are you okay?”

“No.” You sit up a little and look towards your bedroom door. There’s a stream of light from the street lamps coming in through the window, but other than that it’s dark. “I thought I heard something.”

“It was just the air kicking on. You’re fine.”

“Are you sure?”

You feel John’s palm rest on your arm and squeeze. “Positive.”

“Is he out? Did you get a text or anything?”

“Hey, don’t worry about anything, okay? I promise you’re safe.”

You fall back on the bed with a heavy sigh. “I’m sorry I woke you up.”

“Don’t be sorry.”

You're wide awake and this whole situation is baffling. John Wick is in your bed, squeezing your arm and comforting you. 

“Isn’t being an assassin illegal?” You blurt out, the darkness giving you courage, and you instantly regret asking the question because he pulls away.

“It’s the only thing I’m good at.” He says quietly. “Trust me, I tried to retire and I got sucked back in somehow. People seem to want only me for really hard jobs.”

“Couldn’t you get arrested or something if you got caught? Could I get in trouble with you being here?” 

“No. Sometimes cops need bad guys to go away too. You won’t get in trouble.”

“Oh.”

“Feel better now?”

“Yeah. Sorry, I just don’t always get myself into the best situations. I feel really safe with you, I just…” You don’t meet an assassin everyday. You have no idea what it really means. 

“It’s fine.”

“I don’t want to offend you.”

He laughs softly and his fingers brush the back of your arm now. “Nothing you ever ask will offend me. It’s actually quite refreshing. I just hope…”

You wait for him to finish, but he seems to be gathering his thoughts and you don’t want to rush him. 

“I hope you can think of me as a friend before an assassin. And I hope that I don’t scare you.”

“I don’t scare easily.” You mumble and yawn, glancing back to your bedroom door. You ignore the friend comment because you feel like you’ve already been through hell and back. You don’t know if you could consider John as a friend and then lose him someday. It might break you all over again. But then you think of how far you’ve come. “I could probably take Max. I could get him to leave me alone now that I have my mind straight.”

“You think so?” John is sincere and you can hear he’s happy at your mental growth. 

“Yeah maybe. As long as he’s clean and not hopped up on something. Then it might be harder.”

“I guess we’ll see.” John checks his phone and puts it down again after looking briefly at it. “Are you going to be able to get back to sleep?”

“Yes. I’m sorry if I woke you up.”

“Stop apologizing.” He shifts to his side, with his back to you. 

It’s a strong, solid back with his shoulder blades poking out from underneath his t-shirt. You stare until your eyes feel heavy again. You feel safe.

**

The next time you wake up the sun is blaring from the window and John is gone. His leather bag is still by the bed though, but his suit jacket and all of his guns are gone too. 

You start to go about your business, not believing John would leave you alone if you were in any kind of danger. It’s almost creepy how your phone alerts a few seconds later with a text, like he knows that you’re up. 

No need to worry. I know where he is. I’ll see you later tonight. Let me know if anything happens.

You text back sounds good and John tells you to have a nice day.

It just so happens that you have the next two days off from work and you don’t know what to do with yourself. Your foot still hurts from the baseball bat incident so you zone out in front of the TV for a while, trying to forget all of your problems. That doesn’t really work so the next best thing is to venture through the kitchen. You have snacks but not much else. Maybe it would be nice if you could fix John a nice dinner or something, for hanging out with you and like, protecting you from a shitty ex boyfriend. 

Some nice meat might do the trick. A nice steak with a potato and veggies. One thing grandma did that was awesome? Was to teach you how to cook. Wanting to actually cook was a different story for the last few years, the thought making you ill when you were practically a walking zombie, but now the thought excites you. It’s also different to cook for someone than just yourself because it’s usually not worth all the hassle.

Quickly, you get dressed and head out to the nearby grocery store. It's quiet and you take your time walking down the aisles with your cart, wondering what sorts of things John likes to eat. He probably stays healthy but a part of you thinks that he might have a sweet tooth. You grab everything you need, including some pie for dessert and head back home to get started.

There’s a ton of food so you text John to come over hungry and don’t eat any dinner. 

He doesn’t reply back immediately and your stomach starts to sink. What if this is too much? Is this weird? It’s just dinner, right? Friends have dinner together. John has to eat sometime. 

He eventually texts back a simple okay and you take it for what it is. There’s nothing you can do about it now, and since you’ve never really cooked in this kitchen before, if it turns out terrible you can always order pizza. 

It doesn’t turn out terrible, in your opinion, and you’re actually impressed with yourself. There’s a knock on the door right when you're finishing setting the table and John scolds you for not asking who it was before opening the door. He’s still in the middle of his speech when he gets a whiff of steak and sees that the table is set nicely. 

“What’s all this?” He asks, smoothing down his expensive silk tie. 

You pull out a chair for him to sit down. “It’s just a little thank you.”

He doesn’t look happy with that answer.

“It’s me making my friend dinner… randomly?” You try again. 

He laughs and nods, accepting that instead and removes his suit jacket, draping it over the back of his chair. “Do you mind if I…” He points to his waist and waits for you to nod before unclipping the belt, putting it in the bedroom for the night. 

“Wine? Beer?” You ask, debating which you want. 

“Usually I would, but…”

You understand that he’s working, even though he’d hate it if you said it aloud, and put them both away. “How about some ice tea?”

“Sure.” John sits and folds a napkin in his lap. He’s watching you and when you bring over a plate full of food there’s an unmistaken gasp. “Wow, this is amazing. Thank you.”

“It’s nothing.” You sit down too and pass him the salt and pepper. “I forgot how much fun it is to cook. I haven’t made anything since grandma was sick and I stopped eating. But today it was like she was in the kitchen with me.” You stop and close your eyes, embarrassed. “Sorry, that was weird to say.”

“Not the weirdest thing you’ve ever said to me.” He reminds you hesitantly, but with a small smile. 

Heat warms your cheeks and you have to chuckle in agreement. “True. I feel like that was so long ago though. I’m like a different person now. You must’ve thought I was crazy.” You don’t say that you’re grateful you accidentally gave your phone number to a police informant.  That it was John who showed up that day. That it wasn’t some crook who could’ve used a few hundred dollars. 

“I didn’t think you were crazy.” John takes a big bite of steak and moans a little. “This is really good. I haven’t had a home cooked meal in a long time.”

“You don’t cook much?” You ask, waiting for him to make another noise of pleasure. 

“I hate cooking for just myself.” He says, but otherwise he is disappointingly quiet. 

You take a bite of vegetables and nod in agreement, trying to hide your swelling of excitement. Well, that’s that. He is single. No big deal, you tell yourself to calm the hell down in your head. It doesn't matter anyway. It’s not like anything would ever happen. “So, you didn’t think I was crazy? What did you think?”

John puts down his fork and looks at you, his chin resting on his hand thoughtfully. “I thought you looked really tired. That you needed help and had nowhere else to turn.”

You gently rub a finger under your eye, where you know there used to be darkened circles. Now your eyes are bright and alive. You blush at his observation. 

“What’d you think when you saw me?” He asks, interested again in his steak but keeping an attentive ear to everything you say.

You don’t know why, but you feel a surge of confidence. “I thought I was talking to the most attractive hitman in all of New York and that there was no way I could afford your... business.” 

John raises an eyebrow and laughs. “Really?”

Shrugging, you take another bite of food and swallow. “I don’t know what I was really thinking, honestly. It was not my best day. I just wanted to get the conversation over with. I wasn’t in the right mindset.” 

“But therapy is going well?” 

You’re not surprised that he knew about that, but it does make you pause that he actually asked. “Definitely. It’s going very well. And she’s a fan of you, by the way.”

“Me?” 

“Don’t worry, she thinks you're an undercover cop.” 

John leans over his plate, trying to get closer to you. “What exactly do you say about me?”

“That’s personal!”

“Fine.” He leans back now in his chair and crosses his arms, fake disappointment in a pout on his lips. “Then I won’t tell you about what I found out today.”

You glare at him. “Isn’t that blackmail?”

“Or extortion.” He shrugs, waiting for you to answer.

“Ugh.” You roll your eyes and sigh.  “I told her about all of the nice stuff you did for me, even though it was creepy, and how you probably saved my life.”

He blinks at that, obviously not expecting you to be so forward. “Oh. And what did she say?”

“She said to be careful about you breaking into my place and stealing my car… but that it sounded like I made a really good friend.”

John is suddenly silent and tucks a stray piece of hair behind his ear. His voice is quiet when he finally speaks. “Just… just a friend?”

Your stomach does a little flip and you’re not sure where he’s going with this. “I’m pretty sure all I can have is friends right now.” You tell him slowly, trying to get all of your words exactly right. “I need to find my worth, be happy with myself… before I can do that for someone else, you know?”

John nods and his eyes are sad for a brief second but when he looks up at you, he’s proud. “I think that’s great. And I’m happy to help remind you that you’re pretty awesome.”

“Reminders are nice.” You tell him with a small smile. “Especially considering they come from a bad ass assassin.”

John chuckles and finishes his steak. He loosens his tie and unbuttons the top button of his dress shirt. He looks a little tired and you wonder what he did all day.

“So what were you going to tell me?”

“Oh, right. Max. He seems to be doing well. He’s living with his mom across town and he was spotted going into an AA meeting.”

You’re stunned. In a good way. “Really? He was always such a heavy drinker. That’s where I met him. At the bar across the street from the hospital. When visiting hours were over and I didn’t have to work, I’d go there a lot. And well, I guess he spotted a weak one.” You think back to those days when he was nice to you at first, which quickly changed into becoming manipulative and controlling. The final straw was when he said that you couldn’t visit your grandmother anymore. You lost it and he raised a hand at you, several times. You never want to be that weak. Ever again.  “Well that’s good news, right?”

“Yeah.” John rubs at his beard. “Let’s just hope he doesn’t relapse.”

You stand up and start to clear the dishes from the table. “So you don’t have to stay the night, probably.”

“No, I’ll stay at least one more night. Just to be safe.”

You give him a disapproving look. You really hate to waste his time.

“Seriously, I wouldn’t be able to sleep if I wasn’t here. One more night and I’ll be out of your hair.”

That’s not at all what you meant by giving him a look so you just shake your head. “It’s nice to have the company. I just don’t think my apartment is where you want to spend your nights.”

“And where exactly do you think I spend my nights?”

The sink is full of soap and John stands to clear the rest of the plates and cups. “I picture this really fancy nightclub or rave with techno music and neon lights and beautiful women dancing around you.”

John hands over a plate and looks at you like you’re nuts. “You have a very vivid imagination.”

“Oh, like that’s never happened.” You deadpan.

“Well, I can’t say never... “ John leans against the counter and offers to help you. 

“No, I got it but thank you. And also, I knew it. I just don’t see you like… dancing to techno music.” You make a face and stick out your tongue a little. You hate techno.

John laughs. “I don’t go there to dance. If I’m at a club or something it’s usually for work.”

“Ah, I see.” You move to get the dish rag to dry the silverware. “So, where do all the beautiful women throw themselves at you?”

He’s not really paying attention when he answers and he’s looking at something on the ground. “Well lately it’s been at a lake and a local gas station. Is that a bruise?” John bends down and slowly traces the swirls of black and blue colors on top of your foot. The touch stings a little but you hold still. 

“Oh uh... “ God, how stupid. You didn’t think it was that noticeable. “Yeah.”

“Your whole foot is swollen.” His eyes are huge when he stands up and looks at you, his hands on his hips. “What happened?” He growls out and you push past him, considerably embarrassed and turned on all at once. 

“I did it to myself, okay? It’s not a big deal.” 

“You’re limping.” He exasperates, but he gently puts an arm around your waist and helps guide you to sit down. You put your foot on the coffee table and it does look worse than it did yesterday, puffy and colorful. 

You grimince and don’t want to tell him. “It was just a silly accident. Sam at work already made fun of me, so let’s just forget it.”

John disappears to the kitchen and you can hear ice being gathered. He comes back and sits on the coffee table, slowly moving your foot to his lap and putting a towel full of ice by your toes, where the worst of the purples are blooming. 

“You really don’t have to do that. It’s not that bad. I was just on my feet all day and I didn’t think about it. It’ll be back to normal by tomorrow.”

His fingers are so gentle around your ankle and you can’t help but to stare at his big hand surrounding your delicate bones. “Hey.” John taps on your skin until you look up at him. “You’re worth being taken care of, okay?”

Well, he got you there damnit. “Oh, that’s a good one.” You’re impressed and you let him hold your foot, sitting back to relax. Your therapist would be really pleased that you let someone help you.

“Are you going to tell me or are we going to sit here all night?”

You briefly tell him how you got the bruise and his fingers stop tracing over your skin long enough for him to laugh. Loudly.

“It’s not that funny.” You scowl at him.

“It’s really funny.” He’s snickering now and you swear there’s a tear at his eye. He moves to wipe it away and mumbles something like, “you are the cutest... “ and then clears his throat and straightens up. “You’ll have to show me your moves.”

“Uh, no, I think I’ve embarrassed myself enough for tonight, thank you.”

John rubs at your ankle again, squeezing around your leg lightly. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t be mean to the patient.”

“Exactly right.” You agree and smirk when you think of payback. “You gonna kiss it better?”

Without hesitation John takes off the towel and presses his lips to your cold skin. All you can do is stare at his beard and then at the teal nail polish on your toes. You’re speechless.

“It didn’t seem to work.” John says, disappointment in his voice. “I guess I’ll have to work on my technique.” 

He says that last part suggestively and you sit up in the chair, ready to change the subject. “I got dessert. You like pie, right?”

“Do I like pie? What kind of question is that?”

“Can you get it?” You smile sweetly at him. “It’s on the counter.”

He gives you a knowing look but lifts your foot to get up. You can see his reflection in the window as he moves around in your kitchen and you watch him in disbelief. You realize you’ve never had anyone in your apartment. Not even grandma, she was already too sick when you got it. Max always made you go to his place. John comes back with one plate and two forks, a big slice for both of you to share. 

“This is the best anyone has ever paid me to do a job.” He jokes and you smile back, taking a fork and scooping a bite for yourself. 

You point to an envelope on your desk. “Speaking of getting paid… I know it’s not much, but I did promise you--”

“I was kidding.” John cuts you off. His face is instantly annoyed and hurt. 

“John, please.” Your foot is still propped up on the coffee table and you can’t really move. “I just thought I’d offer.”

“Well, take it back.” He says and you put your hands up in defense, silently telling him not to be mad. “And you just lost pie privileges.” 

“What?”

He stands up and walks over to the couch, as far away from you as possible. “Yeah that’s right. I’m eating all of this myself.”

You huff and struggle to sit up. “That is a radical punishment.”

“You need to learn your lesson.” He takes another big bite, making a show of it. 

“That’s it.” You get up and hobble over to him, practically falling into his side and he lets out a grunt when you accidentally lean into his ribs. You decide to just lay where you are for now, you can’t move if you wanted to. “John, seriously. Pie please.”

He shakes his head with amusement and feeds you a small piece. You take it happily and let your head rest on his shoulder while he finishes and feeds you some more until it’s gone. Both of you are quiet. This is the closest you’ve ever been and you just want to feel his warmth. You know eventually you have to move so you peer up at him and smile. “You have blueberry on your lip.” You tell him, reaching to smudge it off with your thumb. At the same time he licks at it and you both laugh.

“C’mon, cripple. I’m helping you to bed.” He tells you, putting the plate and fork down on the coffee table. You use his thigh to get yourself up and he steadies your waist as you balance on one foot. You’re standing between his legs and he’s looking up at you with the sweetest eyes. 

“Thank you for dinner.” His voice is sincere and determined to get his appreciation across. 

You put your hands on his shoulders and lean some of your weight on him. “John… thank you. Thank you for everything.” And with that you let yourself drop down and you hug him hard. He pulls you close and rubs his hands over your back. His hair brushes your cheek and you breathe in deeply, his scent rushing to your head in the most pleasant high.

Awkwardly, you push yourself away and he grabs at your hands. “You want me to carry you to bed?”

You shoot him a glare and he laughs, letting you wobble towards your bedroom while he takes care of the dishes and turns out all the lights. 

When he’s satisfied everything is in the right place, he walks into your bedroom and stands in the doorway, watching you while you sit on the bed and tie your hair up over your head for the night.

“What?” 

John breaks his stare and walks around to the other side of the bed. “Nothing.” 

“Do you want to watch TV or something?” You ask, grabbing the remote to the set up you have on your dresser. You tend to fall asleep to sitcoms rather than complete silence with thoughts running through your mind at full speed. 

“Actually do you mind if I take a shower?” He asks. “I did a lot of running around.”

Your mouth goes dry and you try to get it together before he notices. “Did you get all sweaty tracking Max today?” You guess, smiling when he looks impressed that you got it right. “See, I could totally be an assassin!” Your smile fades when he points to your foot. “Okay, well I could be an assassin’s secretary. I could like, get all the payments and make appointments and travel arrangements and get your guns cleaned and all that stuff!”

He walks around to his bag and gathers a pair of clean sleep clothes. “And take care of all the dead bodies too?”

You gulp. That’s so disturbing. “Yep. And I could take you to the doctor if you get hurt real bad.” You think back to the bruised knuckles and the dried cut on his face.

He cocks his head to the side and thinks for a minute. “That does sound helpful.” 

“Really?”

“Yes and also dangerous. You have no idea what you’re talking about.”

You stand from the bed to get him a towel. “Um, just to let you know, I’ve seen all the assassin movies.”

“Oh, so you’re an expert.”

Opening your closet, you pull out the softest towel you own. “That sounds very sarcastic.” You push it to John's stomach and he grabs it from you, but you don’t let go and tug it back gently. “I’ll have you know I’m a very quick study, Mr. Wick.”

John briefly closes his eyes and takes a step closer to you. He leans in to whisper, his mouth close to your ear, “You better get off that foot.”

A giggle escapes and you sit down on the bed. “If I didn’t have a bruised foot... then could I be your secretary?”

He walks into the bathroom, and right when he closes the door he stops to tell you no.

Frowning, you crawl back to your pillows. You notice John forgot his pajamas on the bed and you’re about to get up and give them to him, but you decide not to. This should be interesting. 

You’re watching TV innocently when the bathroom door cracks open ten minutes later. Steam is hovering around John’s form and you hide your smile.

“Um… I forgot my…” He points to the clothes on the bed and you point to your foot. 

“I would help you, but I’m a cripple.” You tell him, now smiling because you can’t hide it anymore. You’re trying not to laugh. 

He glares at you when the door opens and you see the towel wrapped around his waist. 

“I swear I won’t look.” You tell him, covering your eyes. 

“Are we twelve now?” He mocks, stepping out and picking up his clothes. 

Your smile fades when you look at him because damn. “No, we are definitely not twelve.” You murmur to yourself, and you don’t mean to gock, but he’s fresh out of the shower, glistening skin and tight muscles, toned and strong. He pushes his hair from his face and notices you watching him. 

There’s a smug grin when he turns around and your heart completely skips a beat. All you see are flashes of tattoos, black lines and shading on his back. Maybe on his arms too but it was so fast. If you could only make time stand still. 

Now you’re glaring when he comes back into the bedroom a few minutes later. He’s glancing at you very casually. “What?”

“You did that on purpose.”

He laughs and gets under the covers. “What? Forget my clothes?”

“No. Showing off all of your…” You gesture to his body. “Never mind.” You can’t believe this is happening and turn towards the TV, trying to forget the hotness laying beside you. Nope. You can’t. “John, why are you doing this?”

He sits up a little. “What do you mean?”

“Why are you here? Why are you helping me?” There. You finally asked it. Here comes the pity party.

“Why wouldn’t I?” He asks, confused. When you don’t say anything, he asks another question. “Would you help me if I needed it?”

You don’t hesitate. “Yes, of course I would.”

“Well,” he lays back down and looks blankly at the TV. “There’s your answer.”

“But you hardly know me.”

He briefly glances at you. “Does it matter? I would want to help anyone. What are we watching?”

You laugh at how simple it was all this time. You should really stop overthinking everything. “Do you want to watch Friends or Seinfeld?”

“Who and what?” He asks, not knowing at all your favorite shows. 

You caress his cheek and pet him softly. “You poor, innocent man. I have a lot to teach you about laughing.”

He shoves your hand away playfully. “I watch TV… sometimes.”

“When you’re not doing assassin-y stuff.”

John sighs and closes his eyes. “Yes, when I’m not working.”

“Mmhm.” You don’t really believe him. You figure he reads a lot or studies, or does something really smart. Never really does anything just for fun. “We should totally go to a movie tomorrow!” You say it jokingly, like he would ever agree to something so mindless, but you can hardly believe it when he nods and says okay. “Really? You would go to a movie?”

“Isn’t that what friends do together, right?”

You wouldn’t have any idea. You don’t have friends and you haven’t been to the movies in ages. You hate going by yourself and you never had enough money.

“I think so?” You respond, not really knowing.

He lets out a little yawn. “All of my friends are… well, you know. I don’t see any of them going to a movie.”

“But you would?”

“With you? Yes. You’re not in the business, clearly.”

You throw a pillow at him,  but he quickly catches it and puts it behind his head. You mumble to yourself of course and turn off the light. “Just for that, I get to pick.”

He groans and you laugh as you tuck yourself in under the covers. You feel excited for tomorrow. Your therapist was right, you did make a good friend. Even if both of you have no idea what exactly that means. 

**

You’re still in bed when John is getting coffee from the kitchen, looking at your phone for movie times. “Don’t worry, I will not make you sit through a chick flick… or a disney movie… or a musical.” 

“Do you take cream and sugar?” John asks, popping his head into the bedroom. You nod yes to both and he disappears again.

“Oh! There’s a new sci-fi movie out. You like aliens, right? It looks scary too.” 

John comes back into the room with two steaming hot cups. He hands one to you carefully and you take a slow sip. “Mmm. This is really good, thank you.”

He looks pleased with himself as he gets back into your bed, sitting with his legs crossed under him. His hair is messed up a little and he’s still in his pajamas. The sight is really cute. You’re kind of sad that it was the last night he’s here. You quickly got used to him in your apartment and having someone to come home to was so nice. He already mastered your crappy coffee machine and he does the dishes. But the sleepovers are done and you wish it had lasted a little longer, purely for selfish reasons. 

You must be staring at him for too long because he stops drinking his coffee and gives you a small smile. “What?”

Dunking your head, you’re embarrassed that he caught you. “Nothing.”

He grins, like he can read your mind but doesn’t want to ruin the moment. “What time’s the movie?” 

“Let’s see…” You tap at your phone, scrolling through the options. “How about this afternoon? Then we could get something to eat or whatever.”

Now he’s really smiling and now he really does call you out. “Wouldn’t this be like… a date? Did you just ask me out on a date?”

“What!” You shriek and put your coffee down on the nightstand, stretching your leg over to try and push him off the bed, but he doesn’t move an inch and just laughs at you. “Oh. My. God.  Absolutely not, you weirdo. Why can’t two people just hang out? Jerry and Elaine do it all the time!” You point to the TV in your defense, trying to remind him of the show you watched last night. 

“Okay, okay. Sorry.” John puts his coffee down too and grabs your foot to inspect the bruise. “Wishful thinking, I guess.”

You roll your eyes, still not being able to fathom John Wick flirting with you. It’s probably all a joke to him anyway so you continue to ignore it. “What’s the verdict, Doc?”

He slides your pant leg up and takes a closer look. “Well, it’s not as dark as it was yesterday. Still a little swollen.”

“Told you it would be fine.”

“You’re welcome.” He cracks a smile and you remember the kiss he placed there last night. “Do you need anything else to feel better?”

“Ugh, gross.” Rolling your eyes even harder. “Your flirting is terrible.” 

He grabs at his heart like it hurts. “I take offense to that.”

“Good, that was the point.” You get up from the bed and open the closet, searching for something to wear today. “It’s probably the one thing you’re not good at.”

“I could be good at it.” He says, sipping his coffee again. “I’m just rusty. I need to practise.”

You don’t turn around. “Obviously.”

“Obviously.” He repeats slowly, and then horrified, “Wait.. I’m not skeezy am I?”

That makes you laugh and you sit back down on the bed. “No, John. You’re not skeezy. You’re like the opposite of skeezy. You’re too nice to be skeezy.”

“I’m too nice?”

“Yeah.” You get up again and fiddle with your hair that’s fallen in your face. “I know you say these things just to be nice to me. I know it doesn’t mean anything. It’s sweet though, it’s fun. I get it.”

Slowly, he shakes his head, trying to comprehend your thoughts. “So, you’re saying I could never be serious about flirting with you?”

“Ha, not in this lifetime.” You gather your bathrobe and head for a shower. “Don’t worry, I’m not that stupid. I know exactly how far out of your league I am.”

Now John is the one rolling his eyes. You don’t give him a chance to say anything though and close the door to the bathroom, finally able to catch your breath a little. He still makes you nervous, you realize, and you hope the feeling fades the more time you spend with him because it seems like he needs a friend just as much as you do.

**

You’re brushing your teeth when John taps a knuckle on the door.

“Do you mind if we stop at my place before the movie?”

“You don’t want to wear a suit all day?”

“Not really.” He smiles. “And I have to pick up the dog.”

“Oh right!” You spit into the sink and wash your mouth. “I want some puppy kisses.”

John looks at your lips and then to your eyes. It’s fast, but you still see it. And if you didn’t he mutters, “tease” and leaves to go out the front door.

You grab your purse on the way out and he waits patiently for you to lock the door behind you. He has his bag with him and you’re disappointed it’s not still in your apartment. You wonder if he’s wearing all of his guns and try to sneak a peek under his suit jacket at his waist. You’re not paying attention so you run smack into his back when he stops for the elevator. 

Yep, he’s wearing one gun because you feel it hit your stomach. He looks at you oddly and reaches a hand out to steady you.

“Do you always carry a gun when you go places?”

“Usually.”

“Do you ever have to use it?”

“Sometimes.”

The elevator ride down is quiet and you wave to Francis walking by in the hallway. John nods towards him too, like they have some sort of secret understanding. 

His car is glistening in the sun and you have to admit, it is a pretty sweet ride. John opens the door for you after he throws his bag in the trunk and you move carefully, afraid you might scratch the paint job. You fold yourself neatly in the seat and stay still. 

He smoothly gets in and before you can process about how annoyingly attractive he is, the engine roars to life and he’s speeding out of your complex onto the main road. You have a hard time not watching his hands because his fingers are long and look good around the steering wheel. He drives fast but not enough to make you nervous and glances at you a few times to make sure you’re okay. You don’t say much but it’s a comfortable silence with the windows down. You watch the town go by as you start to relax. 

It’s only about a ten minute drive until the car pulls up to the most gorgeous house you’ve ever seen. Of course, this is where John would live. In a house built with huge windows and high ceilings, with a big open yard that’s perfectly manicured. 

He parks in the driveway but still pushes a button so the garage door goes up. 

“C’mon, I’ll only be a minute.” He tells you and curiosity gets the best of you because you had planned to stay in the car. 

“Are you sure? I can wait here.”

“Why?” He doesn’t wait for you to answer, obvious that he thinks your question was dumb, and he moves around to open your door again. 

“Such a gentleman.” You praise, not being able to help yourself. You can’t remember the last time anyone opened anything for you.

He smiles and leads the way into the house. “Well, I try.”

“This is really pretty.” You tell him, stepping into a long hallway where you can see the living room off to one side and the kitchen off to the other. 

“You want the tour?” He asks, throwing his keys into a glass bowl and taking his suit jacket off. There are actually two guns on his belt, the one on his right hip you hadn’t seen. 

“No, it’s okay. Just seeing the downstairs is enough to make me depressed about my small apartment.”

John scoffs and opens the front door to let in some air. “I like your place. It’s comfortable there. And the cooking’s really good.”

You laugh and he steers you more into the kitchen, which is huge with a tile floor and what looks like all new appliances. “I’d love to cook in this kitchen. There’s so much room!”

“Yeah?” He stops and looks at you very seriously. “You officially have an open invitation to cook here any time.”

“Ha ha.” You push at his shoulder and walk to the big wood dining table, looking around. There are a bunch of picture frames, but they’re all in a pile on a shelf by the coffee maker. You wonder what kind of pictures he has and why they aren’t on display. You don’t want to be nosy though, so you run your finger over the espresso machine that looks like it cost more than a month of pay. “Marry me?” You bend over and ask it, breathing in deeply the scents of coffee. 

John laughs and points at a smaller hallway. “Laundry is through there.” He points at a door. “Basement.” He walks through the kitchen and into the living room, which is sparse but still lovely. You wonder if he decorated this place himself or if he had help. 

“Evening entertainment.” He points to the TV even though you see a stack of heavy books on the coffee table, some of them well read. “Upstairs?” He asks, starting for the staircase. You shrug, trying not to seem eager and interested. 

The amount of sunlight the house gets is incredible. There are windows everywhere, but you can’t see any neighbors and it’s fairly quiet. This is like your dream house. 

“Wow.” It’s all you can say when you enter the master bedroom. A huge bed in the middle that looks so very soft. There’s a sitting couch and table, with a bureau next to the walk in closet. The view is fantastic and you can even see the lake from here. You walk to the other side of his bedroom and almost press your face against the glass. “You live right across from the community college campus! That’s so cool!” 

John is in his closet, probably getting new clothes for the day, but you can hear him say, “Yeah?”

“Yeah! You could walk there if you wanted to! Save a ton on parking.” You mutter, more to yourself. 

Suddenly he’s right behind you, now in a white cotton shirt with long sleeves. “What do you mean?”

“I applied to go to school in the fall. I want to take some classes, maybe try for a degree or something. My place is far, so it’ll be a hassle but that’s okay.” You tug on the hem of his shirt as you walk by him, throwing your purse on the bed. “What else is up here?” You ask, peering down another long hallway.

He has a proud look in his eyes and he’s still gapping at you a little. “I didn’t know you’re going back to school.”

“Oh, something you finally didn’t know, I can’t believe it.”

“Well, I saw the application on your kitchen table but I didn’t want to assume.”

You laugh because of course he did. “Were you snooping, John Wick?”

“Never. I just observe.”

“Oh, I see.”

He opens the door to an empty bedroom with no furniture. “This was supposed to be a guest room but I never got around to it.”

“What about that room?” You point to the door at the end of the hallway. 

“My office.”

“Ooh. Do you have assassin secrets in there?” You smile teasingly and walk back to his bedroom to get your purse. 

“No, those are in the basement.”

Laughing, you can’t tell if he’s joking or not. You don’t think he is. 

The windows are calling again and you can’t help but to take one more look of the view. “This is just so nice. You have everything in walking distance. The lake, the school…”

There’s a beat of silence before he says, “You should move in here.”

That makes you throw your head back and really laugh. How funny. “John, don’t be stupid.”

“How is that stupid?” He asks, his tone is serious but kind. “There’s an empty room. You can walk to school. You can watch the dog for me when I go on… work trips. You would have a kitchen to cook in.”

This man seems to keep surprising you. “You’ve only known me for like a month. What if I smell bad or something?”

He doesn’t hesitate. “You smell amazing.”

“What if I play loud music really late at night?”

“You can’t keep your eyes open past ten.”

“What if I have parties all weekend long?”

“While you work and go to school? Be my guest.”

“What if I’m messy and leave my clothes everywhere?”

John’s eyes narrow with suspicion. “Did you just pretend to be neat while I was at your place for two days?”

He’s right, you do like a clean house. “Whatever, John.” Hoping that he drops it. “Don’t you have to get the dog?”

“Damn, stay here. I’ll be right back. Their house is just down the street.” He runs down the stairs and you can hear the screen door open and shut. 

You look around the bedroom again and take it all in. What a completely different life this would be. Not that you don’t like your apartment. It’s cozy and you’re proud of what you’ve established for yourself. This is too fancy for you anyway. Plus, you like having your space. John would be the weirdest roommate ever. You can’t even imagine. 

You jog down the stairs to wait on the couch. You spot some more picture frames stacked nicely in a pile and you’re just about to sneak a look when you can hear them approach the house.

“Puppy kisses!” You cry out and kneel down to gather a happy dog in your arms. If you had any idea this was the dog driving you mad all those nights, you would have taken him for yourself. 

“Pooch! Get down.” John’s Alpha voice is hot and both you and the dog stop everything. 

He trots over to his doggy bed anyways and plops down. “Cassey, the little girl, wore him out at the park this morning.” John says. “Are you ready to go?”

The movie! You had almost forgotten with all the excitement of being in John’s house.

“Yeah, let’s do it. And don’t worry, I’ll protect you. Don’t get scared.” You tell him, in a bravado voice. 

“Can we get gummy bears?” He asks and you crack up on the way back to the garage. 

“You’re a grown man, you can get whatever you want.”

John hurries to open the car door for you again. “I meant, would you have any or would you like something else?”

“Hmm, I don’t know, that’s a big decision.” You slide back into the car and think to yourself that you could really get used to the chivalry John is showing. You wonder how long it could last. “I think I have to see all my options.”

John smiles as he starts the car and lowers the garage door. “This is really serious.”

You fasten your seatbelt and get comfortable. “When’s the last time you went to a movie?”

He turns his head to back out of the driveway, putting his arm around your seat. His face is very close to yours and you notice that his eyes are a very pretty brown when he’s not working. 

“Good point.”

You grin, breaking the eye contact because it’s making your stomach fill with butterflies that you mentally quiet down. 

The theater is busy and you realize it’s a Friday during summer, so all the teenagers are here. John’s phone rings as he parks and tells you he has to take it, so you decide to get in line and buy the tickets. He’s leaning against his car, chatting while looking around at his surroundings and smiles at you when he catches you checking on him. 

You quickly see that the movie is sold out and not knowing what to do, you walk back to John and the car just as he’s finishing his conversation. It sounds like he was speaking in Russian, but you can’t be sure. “All set?” He asks, sliding the phone in his pocket and reaching to put his hand on your back. He hardly ever really touches you, but his hand hovers over your body constantly. 

“It’s sold out.” You tell him. “Do you want to see something else or maybe come back another day?”

“Oh.” He looks disappointed. “But you really wanted to see that movie.”

“It’s okay, shit happens, right?” You shrug it off easily. This is not the worst thing that could happen. Plus, you’re hanging out with John, so you could be going to the town dump and you’d be happy.

“Hold on. Stay here, I’ll be right back.” He takes off towards the theater and leaves you by the car. You watch him go and it’s almost like he’s in slow motion again. You wonder how just his stride oozes that much confidence. 

In a few minutes he’s back with two tickets. “Here we go. C’mon.”

“How’d you do that?” You dumbly follow him to the theater doors and he guides you to walk in front of him.

“It’s a secret. What do you want?”

You’re still staring at him in a silent awe as he looks at the refreshment stand. A beautiful young worker comes to help and John’s gaze is just on you.

“Um… gummy bears? Right?” You ask him, trying to snap out of it. “That’s what you wanted?”

He leans in close, dark hair falling into his eyes. “I’m asking what you want.”

You don’t really remember what the hell you say, but somehow John pays and leads you down a long hallway and to your seats. Now he’s really close to you and the smell of his cologne is making your legs weak. 

“You okay?”

“Yes!” It comes out too fast but you realize you’re acting weird and need to get with it. 

John nods and crosses his long legs, sitting back in the chair and shifting towards you, whispering as advertisements play on the big screen. “I have a question.”

“Yes?”

“Do friends hold hands at the movies?”

You close your eyes. “No, John. They do not.”

“Not even when I scored tickets that were sold out?”

You lean in to him and smile. “If you tell me how you did that, I might reconsider the answer to your question.”

“Hmm…” He runs fingers over his beard as he thinks. “I talked to the manager.”

“And?”

“And I paid him.”

“John!”

“What? You wanted to know, so I told you.”

You shake your head in disbelief as the lights lower and the movie starts. “You’re crazy.”

He doesn’t disagree with you, but he does turn towards the screen, still touching your elbow throughout most of the first half of the movie. When it gets really creepy, he covers his mouth every time you jump in your seat, hiding his smile. 

You somehow get closer to his shoulder, shielding your eyes and turning into his body when you jump again, grabbing onto his arm. The muscles you feel are solid, and you technically knew they were there, you just never really considered them before. And you are definitely considering them now. 

John lets you hold on to him, and even offers to hold your hand when the movie winds down and you link his pinky with yours, not wanting to totally turn him down. He seems satisfied with that and smoothes his thumb down your hand a few times before the credits roll.

“That was so good!” You exclaim, getting up from your seat and stretching. “I forgot how fun the movies are!”

“You were scared.” John teases, playfully shaking your hand with his. 

“Was not.”

“Was too.”

“Whatever, you were scared too.” You tell him, pushing the heavy doors open and heading to his car. The sky is darker now and the wind has picked up, chilling your arms. You wish you had brought a sweater.

“I was definitely not scared.” John laughs, his hand hovering over your back again. You feel it because you stop for a car and his arm is suddenly pressed into your waist. He moves quickly though, opening the door for you to get inside. 

He turns on the heat as soon as he can and asks where you want to eat. 

“It’s up to you. I could go for anything.”

“Sushi?”

That surprises you and you can’t help but look at him with a raised eyebrow.

“What?”

“Nothing, I just didn’t know John Wick likes sushi. I see you more of an all meat kinda guy.”

“I have a very sophisticated pallet.”

“Oh, my mistake.” You laugh and tell him to lead the way. 

He takes you to a really nice place and you talk about the movie and the food all throughout dinner. It’s nice, not forced, and fun. These past two days, even with the weird circumstances, have been really fun. You want to pay for the dinner, but of course John beats you to it without you even realizing until it’s far too late. You glare at him and tell him that friends usually split the check. He apologizes with a sparkle in his eye and you know he’s not sorry at all.

When John pulls up to your apartment you thank him for such a great day. 

“Are you sure you’re not going to be scared?” He asks, after telling you he had fun today too.

“Yes, John.”

“I could spend the night again, just to make sure.”

You roll your eyes. “I’ll be fine. And you have to get back to Pooch.”

“You could spend the night at my place.” John offers, completely innocent but realizes what he says and adds, “I could take the couch, of course.”

“Good bye, John.” You tell him and he wants you to let him know if you need anything, or if you hear from Max. “I will.” Waving, you open the car door before he can get out and do it for you. The walk up to your apartment is quiet and just a little lonely. 

Once you get inside it’s worse, but you try to ignore it. Instead, you lay in bed where John had slept and cuddle the pillows. 

He texts you once he’s home, to make sure you made it to the apartment okay.

You didn’t let me walk you upstairs, he texts with a sad face.

Instead of telling him that you’re a grown up or you don’t need his protection, you simply text back next time. 

You really hope there’s a next time.

TBC Chapter 3

#john wick #john wick x you #john wick x reader #john wick x y/n #keanu reeves x you #keanu reeves x reader #keanu reeves x y/n #romance #slow build #find your worth #chapter 2 #keanu reeves

[scottymcgeesterwrites]

Final Fantasy V Review

Year: 1992

Original Platform: Super Nintendo

Also available on: PlayStation One (Final Fantasy Anthology), Game Boy Advance, Steam (updated graphics)

Version I Played: Game Boy Advance

Synopsis:

Bartz is a drifter, riding across the world with his chocobo – Boko. One day, the wind seems to fall. Lenna’s father, the king of Tycoon, goes off to make sure the Wind Crystal is all right, but doesn’t return. Meanwhile, a meteorite falls. Lenna and Bartz check it out separately, where they find each other and a man named Galuf with amnesia. Together they figure out that the world is falling apart – the crystals that drive wind, fire, earth and water are dying out. They stumble upon a pirate hideout led by Faris, and together they seek to restore the world and uncover the mysterious forces behind the destruction of the crystals.

Background:

Once again, this Final Fantasy game was originally unreleased outside of Japan. Unlike II and III, the developers thought that the game was a different tone than the others and the vast job system would be too complicated for Western audiences. The West didn’t experience Final Fantasy V until 1999 with Playstation One’s Final Fantasy Anthology; a compilation of both V and VI. One notable change from the Japanese version is the name Bartz. The original name for Bartz in the Japanese release was translated as Butz, but because Americans are immature and laugh at such a name, they changed it in the localization to Bartz.

Gameplay:

Holy capitalism, Batman – so many jobs!

Not only that, but each job has abilities that you can mix and match! Every time you level up a job, you earn a new ability for that job. You can switch those abilities across jobs.

The possibilities are seemingly endless!

The gameplay is the most fun I had with customization in a while in any video game RPG. The best part is that the Job System is so rewarding by the time you reach the third act of the game. It gives you such a variety that it allows you to approach battles from many different angles. There’s no one way to be a badass and deal destructive damage.

It’s so much fun that once a year, Final Fantasy V gamers join in “Final Fantasy Five Four Job Fiesta”. It’s a challenge where you are randomly assigned four jobs in the game and have to finish the game ONLY with those four jobs. I’ve joined in the challenge myself and it’s a great way to come together with Final Fantasy players.

I had fun unlocking the legendary weapons and hunting down the most powerful summons - this time naturally without looking anything up. I find it interesting to say that I had legit fun hunting down all the extras. Sometimes in other Final Fantasy games I get weary over hunting for some extra, higher powered spells and summons. I sometimes even wonder if I should bother going after them. The vast Job System in Final Fantasy V keeps you occupied for the entire game and more. I finished the game and there are still some jobs that I haven't even touched. Luckily, the Game Boy Advance version adds some extra dungeons after you complete the game.

Graphics:

The sprites in this game look a bit rough around the edges. They also come off as too small in my opinion. The same is said of the Game Boy Advance version. Regardless, it now looks like an actual SNES game. Unlike Final Fantasy IV, it has more color, structure, and doesn’t look faded.

Something irked me though about the sounds. I never have anything bad to say about the sound effects, but for some reason, in this game, the battle sound effects were meek. Even when someone had a sword, the attack sounded puny.

The PlayStation One version has an FMV sequence that look awkward and ugly as fuck, just like the FMV sequence for the PlayStation One version of Final Fantasy IV. As much as I love Yoshitaka Amano, trying to transplant his style into 3D is not a good idea.

Story:

The story transcends that of Final Fantasy IV. Where Final Fantasy IV can feel weak or simple at times, Final Fantasy V delivers a strong, emotionally charged storyline.

It starts simple. Once again, the world is in danger because the crystals are in danger – but this time because humans are misusing their power and breaking them. So this is a rare Final Fantasy game without any evil empires or rebellions.

Out of all the Final Fantasy games, I had heard the least about what happens in V. Heck – I knew more about II before going into it, mostly because of what people said about the Star Wars parallels. It’s been a long time since I went into a Final Fantasy game completely blind. I kept it that way and was very pleasantly surprised.

I can see what the developers meant by a “change in tone.” Final Fantasy V is probably the funniest of them all. It’s not campy – just humorous. Galuf loves to share puns. Bartz can be a klutz. The characters bicker a lot during their journey. One part actually made me genuinely laugh out loud when you are in a certain underground place searching for clues:

Despite the lighter tone, each character has a pretty sensitive, delicate backstory. I cared for Bartz’s personal history with his parents. I worried about whether Lenna’s father would die or not. I wondered what Galuf forgot and who Faris really was. There are dashes of tropes here but none of them stand out too much. You have to remember that tropes themselves are not inherently bad – what matters is how you utilize them. There’s no hokey romantic subplot thrown in either, which is extremely rare in a JRPG.

It was so rewarding to go into it blind because there was even a shocking death. I thought maybe they would be all right in the end through some Disney cop out.

No. That person is dead. Dead as a door nail. Never coming back. I also enjoyed the bit where they tried to revive said dead person with spells and phoenix downs. They finally imply that there can be a point where someone can go beyond and it’s too late to bring them back.

The henchman Gilgamesh is very memorable and lovable, probably the most memorable character of the entire game. He serves as great comic relief while not being at all annoying. I kept hoping he would show up.

My only real complaint, if I’m ever forced to say anything bad, is that Boko wasn’t really an asset in the story, at least not as much as I assumed he would be.

The story is unfortunately very overlooked. I can understand that maybe at the time American and other Western gamers may have found the third act strange – especially after learning about the villain Exdeath’s true nature. Compared to the other Final Fantasy backstories, it’s a little out there, and something tells me it relates to Japanese mythology. But today? You’d be sorry to miss out on it.

Music:

Final Fantasy V’s main theme is somewhat reminiscent of Final Fantasy IV’s main theme. They have this melodic soaring feel with a continuous beat. “The Four Warriors of Dawn” in Final Fantasy V is reminiscent of “Red Wings” in IV. Meanwhile, the biggest and most interesting display is “Battle with Gilgamesh”. (sometimes titled “Clash/Battle on the Big Bridge”). The piece opens up with some intense drumming. While the later orchestrations and adaptations of “Battle with Gilgamesh” are pretty good, nothing seems to capture the tempo and umph of the original.

“Dear Friends” is probably the most endearing tune in the soundtrack. It’s played at the end and gives a really bittersweet feel. The Distant Worlds concert version is extremely bittersweet. It has a sweet, gentle guitar, and it reminds me of how Uematsu said one of his inspirations was Simon and Garfunkel. “Dear Friends” definitely has that folk tune.

Exdeath’s theme song gives a heavy rock vibe. That heavy rock vibe was last heard in the opening segment of the final boss fight in Final Fantasy IV. The rest of the score has a lot of drumming incorporated, partially due to the fact that pirates are involved in most of the plot. Ultimately, this Final Fantasy score broke out all of Uematsu’s classic and hard rock inspirations – and it’s fucking awesome.

Notable Theme:

“Battle with Gilgamesh”

I have replayed this song over a thousand times by now.

Verdict:

Definite must-play. It’s the most underrated Final Fantasy game. The Kob System can be overwhelming, especially if you have never played a Final Fantasy game before. I wouldn’t suggest playing this for beginners – more after you get your hands wet.

Direct Sequel?

Yes. And No.

While not a video game, Final Fantasy V did receive an anime sequel titled Final Fantasy: Legend of the Crystals. It’s technically the first sequel to a Final Fantasy game. The anime is set 200 years in the future, with the heroes of the original game having become legend. Critical reception of the miniseries was mixed.

#final fantasy #final fantasy v #square enix #super nintendo #nintendo #underrated video games #video games #onvideogames #fantasy #rpg #jrpg #rpg game #video game rpg #chocobo #four job fiesta #final fantasy five four job fiesta

[themanicmagician]

Shipwrecked [3/4]

[AO3]

Summary: When Redd’s boat crashes upon the shore of Bastion Island, Tom reluctantly takes him in while he recovers. Tom despises Redd for his past deceit, but when he has no choice but to spend time with him, Tom is reminded why he fell in love with the wily fox in the first place.

“What is this supposed to be?”

Tom eyed the frilly cocktail Redd had pushed into his hand. It was a swirl of blue and seafoam green, complete with a tiny toothpick umbrella spearing a pineapple wedge.

“Vacation Juice.”

“But we’re not on a—”

“It’s just a name. You’ll like it, trust me.”

Tom took a small sip. It tasted like pears. Very, very sugary pears. He couldn’t even taste the alcohol. As he took a second, larger sip, Redd said: “Told you you’d like it.”

Tom rolled his eyes, not gracing Redd with a response. He swallowed another mouthful of the “juice” as he glanced around the bar. It wasn’t one of their typical haunts. Drinking out in the city was always expensive, so they tended towards establishments with long, generous happy hours, and cheap brews to go along with. The bar they were in now—Tom had already forgotten the name—was a touch fancier. The drinks were all cocktails with themed names. The drinks were served in small portions, and the prices were obscene, but they were celebrating, after all. They could splurge, just a little, just tonight.

The bar was miraculously uncrowded. Tom and Redd had even managed to secure a corner table all for themselves. The lighting was dim, intimate. They were surrounded mostly by other couples, each pair focused on each other rather than a game on TV.

This was Tom’s third drink in under an hour, and he was getting to that pleasant, loose phase of drunkenness. He watched Redd swallow, observed the slow bob of his throat as he drank. He was struck by a bolt of desire. He wanted to trace the movement with his tongue. Tom shifted on his stool.

Redd’s cell phone rang. He fished it out of his pocket. His cool demeanor slipped, his eyes widened in alarm.

“It’s the landlord for the building!” He told Tom before he hurriedly took the call. “Hi! Phil, how’s it going? No, no it’s not a bad time at all.”

Redd hunched down, pressing the phone close to his ear to listen over the booming music.

“...Really? Oh—Oh no, that’s not a problem at all.”

Redd’s expression twisted briefly in distress. Tom’s stomach lurched with sudden, strong anxiety. What was the landlord saying? It was maddening, only being able to hear half of the conversation. He leaned closer, but could barely hear the tinny voice coming from Redd’s phone.

“Of course. I’ll get it to you tonight. Yes. You too. Ciao.”

Redd hung up, and sighed. When he didn’t immediately launch into an explanation, Tom blurted: “Well?”

Redd combed a paw through the fur on his head with agitation. It made his sleek fur stick up at odd angles, but Redd didn’t seem to notice, or care.

“The landlord, he got another offer on the store. Says if we still want it we’ll have to pay the first six months—up front.”

Tom swallowed, throat suddenly dry. He downed the rest of his Vacation Juice.

“I have some money put away, but not nearly enough for all that time.” Redd frowned. “But if I don’t get it to him tonight, we lose the place.”

“Well, how much is six months’ rent?”

“Everything included—all the fees, insurance, utilities and everything—it’ll be 200,000 bells. And I already went and spent most of my money getting us the stock. I can’t get a refund now.” He laughed, the sound sharp and bitter. “We’ll have all this furniture and nowhere to put it.”  

“How much do you need?”

“Tom, I couldn’t—”

“Redd. We’re partners, right? How much do you need?”

The fox shifted on his stool.

“...It’s too much to ask of you.” Redd mumbled, eventually.

“Redd.”

“Fine, fine. I only have about 15k bells left in my account right now.”

Tom brought out his own phone. It took a few clumsy tries for him to unlock it. He had just enough in his account to cover the remainder, built up from the months of pitching and selling ideas to businesses. This would drain nearly all of Tom’s savings, but it was an investment. It was worth it. Besides, they’d make it up and then some when their store opened.

“I can transfer it over right now.” Tom smiled. “Though I’m afraid we’ll have to switch to ramen and tap water for a while.”

“I could kiss you.” Redd said.

“What’s stopping you?”

After a sloppy kiss that tasted of pears and apples, Tom drained his account for the deposit. Redd called Phil back to confirm the transfer was a success. Once the landlord confirmed, Redd pulled Tom from the bar, hand in hand. They couldn’t really afford to buy more fancy cocktails, but there was a full bottle of sake at home, calling their name.

~*~

Tom awoke with a thunderous headache. He groaned, pinching two fingers to the ridge of his nose. He warily opened his eyes a few centimeters, then slammed them shut again. Nausea churned in his gut. He took a moment to just lay there, and prayed for his insides to stop revolting. How much had they had to drink last night? It was a blur. Tom had been feeling buzzed already from the cocktails and then the sake had gone and punched straight holes through his memory. He remembered snatches of moments, of sensations. Raking his paws through Redd’s fur, feeling the corded muscles beneath as they shifted. The sweet taste of Redd’s mouth on his, the triumph of finally marking up that exposed throat. The way that Redd, always so perfect and composed, became a stuttering, breathy mess as they made love. Then, a whole lot of nothing.

“Redd?” Tom moaned feebly. The fox handled his liquor a thousand times better than he did. He could entreat his partner to get up and fetch him some water. He flailed out blindly, reaching, but his hand encountered no fox.

Tom opened his eyes again, with heavy reluctance. He was alone in the bed. He swept his paw over the sheets. They were cool.

Tom spilled clumsily over the side of the bed to reach his pants, which were in a crumpled heap on the bedroom floor. He rooted around in his pockets until he found his phone. The time blared at him, like a condemnation: 10:05 a.m. For someone that normally got up for the day at 6, it was sacrilege.

Standing upright was a mistake. Dizziness and nausea slammed into him immediately. He barely made it to the bathroom before he was puking. He hadn’t really had much to eat yesterday, so all that came up was stringy bile. He flushed the mess down and rested his head for a minute against the cool bathroom cabinet.

He was surprised Redd hadn’t come to investigate, considering the amount of noise Tom was making.

“Redd?” He croaked.

There was no reply.

Tom sat for a moment more, until he was certain he wouldn’t neat the toilet again. He levered himself upright, bracing himself on the sink.

He shuffled out of the bathroom, and went into the area comprised of their kitchenette and living room. Redd was still nowhere to be found. And there was something...off. It took him a moment, and then he realized: Redd’s stuff was missing. His artwork that’d been scattered around, his books, they were gone. Tom checked their bedroom. Tom’s things were neatly folded in the drawers, but there was an empty gap where Redd’s clothes had once been.

Had something happened to Redd? Heart pounding with confusion and fear, he dialed Redd’s number. The call went straight to voicemail. He called again; same result.

After the beep, he left a message, his voice audibly shaky. “H-Hey, it’s Tom. Call me when you get this, alright? Let me know you’re okay.”

Tom returned to the living room, and paced anxiously until his attention was caught by a white envelope. It was resting on the floor, by the front door. Someone must have slipped it underneath.

The envelope was addressed to Redd, but Tom broke the seal anyway, hoping whatever was inside would provide answers.

Inside was a final eviction notice.

According to it, Redd was three months past due on rent, and had until the end of the week to move out his stuff before it was thrown out by management.

Tom was breathing fast, now. It felt like the walls were closing in on him. This didn’t make  sense. Redd had afforded this apartment for years before Tom had moved in. And as soon as Tom began making money he contributed half of the rent. He gave the bells over to Redd and assumed he’d take care of it. Redd had money before they’d poured most of their shared earnings into their store, so why—?

The eviction notice was starting to crumple in his shaking grip. He set it aside on the kitchen island.

He needed to find Redd. He needed to talk to him. There was probably some simple explanation for all of this that Tom just couldn’t see right now. Redd would explain, would tease him for getting all worked up about nothing. Or, or maybe this had been premeditated. Maybe he’d taken Tom’s money for months and then—

Tom yanked on his pants, and a shirt, and dashed out of the apartment. Redd wasn’t home, but there was one other place he might be at this hour.

Tom ran to their store. Animals gave him odd looks as he passed them, but he paid them no attention. He wasn’t built for running, especially not over long distances. He was soon panting and wheezing, sweat slicking his shirt to his back, but he didn’t slow. The walking sign switched to a red hand but Tom kept running, ignoring the resultant yells and curses spat at him from nearby cars as they were forced to swerve around him.

He reached the store at last—and his heart dropped to his stomach. The entire area was roped off. There were large heavy construction machines, including a crane with a wrecking ball at the end of it.

Tom ducked under the tape and tried to run inside, but was grabbed by one of the construction workers.

“Hey, hey!” The bulldog barked. “You crazy? You can’t go in there, they’re about to bust it down.”

“That’s my store!” Tom yelled. “What are you doing, that’s my property!”

“This place has been foreclosed on for over a year now.” The worker replied, bewildered. “It’s been slated for demolition. Gonna squeeze another high-rise in there.”

“But—But—”

The key in his pocket was freshly cut. If the place had been abandoned, it would’ve been relatively simple for Redd to install a new lock on the place. To add a layer of credibility to the entire request, to allow Tom to hope.

Tom was no longer resisting, so the bulldog released his grip on Tom’s shirt.

“You should step back, kid. It’s going to get real dusty here in a minute.”

He threw one last perplexed look at Tom before he rejoined his crew members.

Tom retreated behind the tape, and watched as the wrecking ball swung out, and smashed the front of the building inwards. His eyes watered, then, but not from the resultant dust.

~*~

He didn’t return to the apartment. He didn’t want anything they’d shared, or that would remind him of Redd.

He walked to the train station in a daze, only pausing to chuck his apartment and store keys in the trash.

Tom didn’t have much remaining in his account, but Redd had at least left him enough to purchase a one-way ticket back to his hometown. The train was the same make and model as the one that’d brought him here, six months ago.

Tom sat at a free window seat, and rested his cheek against the window. The glass was a bit smudged and sticky, likely from a child’s hands, but Tom left his head where it was.

The train came alive with a jolt. Soon the skyscrapers gave way to houses. Gradually, the houses became further and further spaced out, and the forest grew denser. He drank in the sight of green foliage greedily, like a man given water after days in the desert. He hadn’t realized, until now, how much he hated the gray of steel, the tan of concrete, the black of asphalt.  

The train stopped intermittently. Tom did not pay attention to the conductor’s voice over the loudspeaker, as his was the very last stop on the line.

“Hey, do you mind if I sit next to you?”

It took half a moment for Tom to recognize that he was being spoken to. He pulled his gaze sluggishly away from the window. A blue and white cat stood there, smiling down at him, seemingly unperturbed by Tom’s dour mood. Tom shrugged, not really caring what the cat did. He slid into the seat beside Tom.

“I’m Rover.” He beamed. Tom wanted to grab him by the shoulders, shake him, scream that it wasn’t fair, how dare he smile like that when Tom had been through hell.

“...Tom.” He admitted, eventually, in the expectant silence.

“Pleasure. So, where you headed?”

“Home.”

He understood it now. He wasn’t meant for city life, for a place that cradled you when you could provide it value, then dropped you into the dirt after.

“Took a day trip to the city, eh?”

Tom grunted.

“What a place! Fun to visit now and again, but I’d never live there, personally.”

“Me neither.” Tom agreed.

Rover filled the trip with largely one-sided chatter until he hopped off, three stops before Tom’s.

“Safe travels, friend! I’m sure we’ll meet again someday.”

Tom mustered up a wave for him.

The train pulled into its final station a little after noon. Hardly anyone was left on the train. As Tom left the station, he passed a few elderly couples, some younger animals psyching themselves up for a nature hike.

There weren’t cabs this far out, so Tom walked. It reminded him somewhat of his first day in the city, fraught as it was with exhaustion and confusion as he plodded down street after street. At least this time he walked with certainty. Starved of entertainment as a child, he’d explore the entire town enough times he could navigate it blind.

He wasn’t surprised to discover nothing had changed here. He hadn’t been gone that long, all told, and change came at a glacial pace in his hometown. There were the same trees, unchanging storefronts. Though he supposed there was perhaps a bit more peeling paint on the general store sign than the last time he’d seen it. The store had been owned by Gran Bluebell since before Tom was a kit. It was no great shock she didn’t bother with touching up the hard to reach sign at her age.

People recognized him. Welcomed him. Assumed he was just here for a visit. Tom smiled at them, and exchanged pleasantries but no meaningful information on his side. Humiliation burned his face like a hot brand. He could hardly admit to himself that he’d failed, let alone to them. They’d sympathize, express their condolences—but past their commiserating veneer would be a sick kind of satisfaction. I knew you’d never make it out there. You thought you were better than us? Smarter? We’re all stuck here in this town for a reason.  

Had the city soured his optimistic, rosy view of others? Perhaps it had. Could he truly be blamed, though? With pessimism, you expected the worst out of others. You could never be disappointed, only pleasantly surprised.

At length, Tom reached his destination. It was a house on the end of the row. One story, cream-colored. The doorbell had stopped working years ago, so Tom rapped on the door. He heard the shuffle of feet over wood, and then the door creaked open.

Sable’s eyes widened. She shut the door again to unhook the chain lock, and then threw it wide open. Tom could see a slice of the kitchen from his current vantage point. Mabel was strapped into her highchair, gleefully smashing peas into paste on the tray in front of her, babbling nonsense. Label was peering at him with large, dark eyes, half-hidden behind the frayed couch.

“Tom, what are you doing here?” Sable swept a critical eye over him, noting his lack of luggage.

Tom saw telltale signs of strain in his friend’s features. The circles beneath her eyes, the unkemptness of her quills, the stains, fresh and old on her apron. He shouldn’t bother her with his problems. But he didn’t have anywhere else to go.

“Tom?”

She cupped his chin, lifted his head up so he met her gaze.

“What happened?”

Tom broke. He surged forward, wrapping Sable in a tight embrace. Sable hesitated only the briefest moment before she encircled her arms around him, stroking his back soothingly.

“Sable,” He choked out.

“It’s okay now.” Her tone was soothing and soft. “Let it out.”

He buried his head in her shoulder, and wept.

~*~

Tom was rooted in place. Redd was gone, again. Without a trace, without a word.

He was being stupid. He was overreacting. Where could Redd go, really? The island wasn’t that large.

He knew this, logically, and yet his heart was pounding like a drum, his paws, clammy. He couldn’t help the irrational fear that history was repeating itself.

He managed to break through the panic which had seized him to return downstairs. He entered the Cranny. Timmy and Tommy swiveled away from their conversation with Fang.

“Have you seen Redd?” Tom blurted.

The twins shook their heads in unison, but the old wolf scrunched up his forehead in thought.

“The little red fella?” Fang rumbled. Tom nodded. “Think I saw him on my way in. Headed northwards, cha-chomp.”

“Should we look too?”

“...too?”

“No, boys. Mind the shop. I’ll find him.”

Tom waited until he was out of sight of anyone inside the store before he broke into a jog. He crossed over the bridge that connected the main swatch of Bastion to the smaller crescent of land to the north. Alex had left most of this land to the wilds. There was a grove of multicolored hyacinths, encircled by pear trees. Bastion’s lighthouse was posted on the edge of the water. There was no other sign of civilization out here—save for Flurry’s house.

Tom hurried up to the house, and was about to knock when the door swung open. Redd was exiting, a new book tucked under his arm. Flurry was behind him, wringing her tiny paws.

“You’re sure I can’t carry it for you?” She fretted.

“The book weighs more than you do. I can handle it, no problem.”

Redd was facing Flurry; he hadn’t seen Tom yet. He was speaking in that tone of voice, the same one he’d had with the boys, before Tom interrupted. Something soft, kind.

Then Redd turned to see Tom, and the gentle look on his face vanished, replaced by something charming and fake.

“Come to escort me home? How gentlemanly of you, Mr. Nook.” Redd batted his eyelashes obnoxiously. Flurry giggled.

Tom gave a short nod to the hamster before she shut the door. Tom waited until they were in the hyacinth field, far enough away from Flurry’s house, to speak.

“You can’t just—just leave without telling me.”

Redd snorted. “I’m not one of your adopted kiddos.” A thought seemed to occur to him, and with some annoyance, he added, “What, you can’t trust me to be on my own, is that it? Think I’m always up to no good?”

“You’re hurt and you don’t know the island. You can’t just go off on your own.”

“Please, Tom. Don’t bother with all this. You don’t care about me, you’ve made that perfectly clear.”

“That’s not what I—you’re so—!” Tom clamped his mouth shut. He took a deep breath, which didn’t do as much to calm him as he would have liked. “I’m sorry. I overreacted. You were just gone, and I panicked.”

Tom was surprised as that seemed to set Redd off. “Oh, panicked, did you? How do you think I felt when you left New Leaf, without telling me? I had to hear it from Chadder—Chadder, of all people!—that you’ve just run off to some deserted island, on your own. There are tarantulas out here, Tom. Tarantulas!”

“And scorpions,” Tom added, helpfully. Redd glowered at him. “I was expanding my business into travel. Not that you’d know anything about innovation.”

“You learned all you know from me!”

“Hardly!” Tom scoffed. “I taught myself everything after you stole from me. My first shop was made out of scrap metal and wood from the dump, and look at me now. Whereas you, Redd,” He jabbed the fox in the chest. “You just jump from one scam to the next, and don’t care who you hurt in the process.”

Redd flinched back. “I’m not. I’m not like that anymore. I—look. I might have. Lied. Before.”

“You’ll have to be more specific.” Tom said, waspishly.

“Guess I deserve that one.” Redd shifted his weight uneasily. “I’m talking about the art. It is real, like I said. Spent almost every bell I got to acquire it all. But I wasn’t planning to scam anyone with it. I wasn’t going to go island to island to sell people replicas. I just wanted to come here. Where you are.”

Tom’s ire drained, supplanted by confusion. He said nothing, and Redd took that as permission to continue.

“I was going to swing by once a week. Give a new piece of art to that human kid every time, because I know Blabbers—”

“Blathers.”

“—would want them all displayed in his museum. And over time, you’d get used to seeing me around. And there’d be no stories about fakes for you to hear. And maybe you’d…” Redd sighed. He looked up at Tom with an earnestness the raccoon had never seen from him before. “I scammed a lot of guys before you. A lot of them were like you—new to the city, hopelessly clueless, grateful for any scrap of guidance. But you were different. I...I do regret what happened between us. What I did to you. It still haunts me.”

“So why did you?” Tom asked, softly. “You know that I loved you.”

Redd’s face twisted in anguish. “I did know. I hate myself every day for ruining what we had. And the worst part is I can’t tell you why I did it. A part of me, a big part of me, didn’t want to. But it was what I’d always done. I didn’t grow up in a nice place, or in a nice home. I learned how to con, how to lie and cheat and survive. I learned how to take care of myself, because no one else was going to. And then you came along, and you didn’t want to use me, and you were clever, and wanted us to be partners, equals. You thought I could be that for you, that I could be up at as high a level as you are, and, and it scared me. It made me think that maybe I didn’t have to be that way anymore. I didn’t have to trick anyone ever again. But when it came down to it, I couldn’t change. I couldn’t make the leap. I fell into old habits, because they were secure, because I knew I could rely on the results. I knew I’d hurt you, but I did it anyway. Because I didn’t trust you, and I didn’t trust myself.”

Tom felt as if his heart was breaking again, but in a different way. Redd’s confession was a raw, sad thing.

“I’m not asking for your forgiveness. I know I don’t deserve it. But I’m a selfish bastard, and I...I still want you in my life. In whatever way you’ll have me.”

There was a long silence between them. The hyacinths swayed gently around them in the cool sea breeze.

Redd had hurt Tom deeply. On one level, Tom did forgive him. Redd had suffered the consequences of his actions. He’d gained money, but he’d lost Tom’s affections, lost the chance for an honest living. On another level, Tom could not open his heart fully to the fox again. Redd claimed that he had changed, and he certainly seemed repentant. But they would remain only acquaintances, perhaps friends, at the most. He simply could not trust Redd to the extent he had in the past, and he doubted he ever would.

“What book did Flurry give you?”

“What? Oh.” Redd blinked. He checked the title. “Bark Antony and Kleopawtra.”

“Perhaps you could read it aloud to the kids, tonight. They’d like that.”

A tentative smile spread slowly across Redd’s face.

He accepted the olive branch.

“Fine, but you’re voicing Bark Antony.”

The pair of them returned to the Cranny, walking shoulder to shoulder.

#reddnook #tom nook #redd #ac #animal crossing #animal crossing: new horizons #my fic #also you know flurry was eavesdropping on that drama #with binoculars

[yuulina-vre]

Gifting you a new life

Finding the hint

Pairing: Steve x Bucky, Reader insert

Warnings: None 

Word count: 3731 words

Part: Two

Summary: Bucky struggles a litte through his workday

Masterlist

* * *

Bucky wakes up tiredly. The night wasn’t one of the best he ever had but it wasn’t as bad as the worst ones. Nightmares and restlessness had him captured and awake for half of the night. Now he doesn’t really feel rested, but he’s used to it by now. His shoulder aches as he sits up. He winces slightly, starting to massage around on the scarred flesh of his stump for a moment, then rolling his shoulder and ignoring the slightly dulled pain. After throwing the blanket off his lap he yawns wide and long before he stands up to stretch his arm as high as he can. He throws a quick glance at his metal prosthetic that he had taken off before bed. He still can’t decide if he likes or hates it, even after years of having it. It makes the everyday life easier but at the same time it’s a struggle to put on by himself, he can’t feel with it and sometimes he calculates his strength wrong and smashes glasses and the like. One thing that’s makes no difference are the looks. He gets them if he wears the arm and he gets them I he doesn’t, but by now he’ s at least used to that.

With a sigh he lets the arm stay in his box and walks to the bathroom and straight to the mirror. After seeing his reflections, he sighs again, this time in annoyance. His hair is a mess! It’s tangled up nicely and look like a mop, not hair at all. Maybe he really should cut it at some point. He had grown it out since he got honorably discharged from active duty. That was about three years ago.

He eyes his reflection with a slight frown, brushes his hair but doesn’t try to even get it somehow presentable, just pulls it up into a bun. Then he undresses as best as he can with one arm and steps into the shower to quickly get rid of the sweat of the night, from dreams he can’t even remember anymore.

After stepping out of the shower into the now steam filled room, he feels more awake and refreshed. His hair is now a wet mess in a bun since he didn’t pay attention to it and got it all wet. But he doesn’t mind.

Wrapped up in a towel around his waist and holding it with his hand he leaves the bathroom again to sit back down on his bed. His eyes wander back to the arm in the box. He silently debates if he should put it on today or not. Sometimes he rather not wears it when his shoulder hurts already it makes attaching the arm difficult and the pain will grow over the day but without it his workday will be a struggle to handle. After a few minutes of back and forth he garbs his prosthetic, letting the towel fall from his hips. It’s not like someone can see him running around naked anyway. Aside from Maggie but she’s not even here. Bucky struggles a little with getting the arm attached to his shoulder. It always hurts a little afterwards which is now worse since his shoulder is, in fact, hurting already. “Come on you fucking piece of- Aha” he curses a little until he finally manages to get the damned thing on. He really hates this arm. Maybe. Probably. He rotates his arm and shoulder for a while, massages the scarring again to prevent the stiffness from setting in just yet. It feels a little heavy at first, like it’s dragging his right side down, but Bucky knows that it’s just because he actually wears his prosthetic for the first time in three days and the feeling will vanish the longer he wears it. He carefully flexes his metal hand a few times, testing the strength and motion before he lift himself from his bed to shuffle over to his closet. He gets one of his favorite shirts and a pair of boxers and pants to get dressed in before he leaves the room to walk downstairs to his kitchen. Once again, he’s reminded that his house is actually too big for just him. He used to live here with his siter but since she married a few years ago he’s living all by himself in the house he grew up in. he thought about selling the place a few times by now but never really got it in him to follow through. There were just too many memories of his parents and his childhood in the walks and floor. Each cracking step, whistling of wind that squeezes past the windows, each little ting that need renovating or replacing has its own memory to tell. So, he stays. Maybe he adopts a dew more cat. Maggie probably feels lonely when he’s not home anyway. Yawning tiredly again, still not really awake, he switches on the coffee machine before he starts the toaster. While waiting for his toast he goes to one of the cabinets to retrieve some of Maggie’s favorite food and fills it in her bowl, whistling for her, so she knows food’s ready. Then he walks back to his table, grabs his toasts and some stuff to put on them, grabs his coffee and starts his breakfast, all while scrolling through his phone. He’s almost finished eating when he hears a meow from behind him. Bucky turns around only to be greeted by a white, black-footed fluffy cat that stares up at him with sparkling amber eyes. “Hey you. Finally, back? I waited for hours last night.” Bucky glares at his little girl but Magnolia only meows again, rubbing her head against his leg with a purr before stalking over to her food. Bucky shakes his head and silently curses himself for being so soft for the fur ball. “You know, one of these days I see you stealing my credit card to buy yourself some staff or something. You do what you want, huh?” The cat meows again, looks up at him and flicks its tail as if to say that he’s damn right. Bucky chuckles. “Yeah, yeah. For feeding I’m good enough, I know.” Snorting he drinks the last of his coffee, gets up and disposes everything into the sink to wash up later. Then he walks to Maggie, bends down and picks her up into his arms. She struggles for a second, not pleased to be interrupted while eating breakfast but then settles down, rubbing her head under his chin with some more purring. A smile creeps on Bucky’s face, he starts scratching under Maggie’s chin and kissing her fluffy head until his gaze switches to the clock on the wall. It’s late already but he figures that he can take five minutes to cuddle with his favorite girl. He strokes though the cat’s fur, letting her purr against his chest while she still rubs her head against his chin and shoulder. As much as Maggie loves to be outside, striving through the wilderness of his garden, she loves to cuddle with him, too. Sometimes Bucky thinks that she has more dog than cat in her genes. She always seems to know when he’s not feeling well or is in pain. She comes running up to him, greatly takes her places on his lap or chest and stays there, purring contently and letting the man stroke through her fur until he’s feeling better, or she decides he has to suck it up already. Sometimes she stays as long as Bucky lets her, and he has to admit that it can be pretty long. He loves her small warm body purring against his skin. Magnolia is really good at comforting, too.

The little white ball meows again and Bucky kisses her head once more. “I know, I need to get ready.” He sets her down watching her walking back to her food. “See you later, Maggie. Don’t do stupid stuff. And don’t scratch the couch again. I know it was you!” He points at the cat, but Magnolia just throws an innocent look at him, munching happily. He shakes his head before he walks to his wardrobe in the hall, slips on his ID card for the military and takes the dog tags form the key hooks where they always hang. He stokes his thumb carefully over the old and damaged metal, lingering for a moment in some memories. These tags are the only thing that he still has from his time as a soldier. They aren’t his though, oh no. He gave his own to his sister for keeping safe util he’s ready to take them back again. These ones are somebody else’s. They’re from the man that he rescued. A comrade, a total stranger. He pushed him away as a grenade exploded which made the stranger fall down a small cliff. That was the day he lost his arm. He can’t remember much about the day, let alone the face of the Captain he saved. Since he retired his service and works in the lost-and-found section of the military he tries to find the man. For five years now. He still has no clue who he is or where to find him. He doesn’t even know if he’s still alive or if he died that day. No one could help him, and no one seems to know the man. At least no one he talked to. The team is so damaged that the only things he knows are, that the man had the rank of a Captain and his last name ends with ‘gers’. So, he carries the tags with him, as reminder and in hopes to finally find a clue one day and get the chance to give them back. He carefully slips them into his jeans pocket, takes his car keys, locks the door and walks over to his car. The old thing looks like it’s falling apart some day and Bucky really hopes that his motorcycle will be repaired by tomorrow. He hates his car.

 * * *

The moment he opens the door to his office at the community center he sighs. He managed to get across the whole place without anyone stopping him to have a chat. It’s not that he doesn’t like talking to anyone but if he doesn’t have to than that its totally fine for him. He likes to be alone and have his silence. He only greeted some people he knows pretty well, and actually likes.

Now he collapses into his chair with a huffed sigh. It’s not that he has much to do but the few things he has to do are tiring. Carding through old files, newspaper, calling the archive of the military and so on. A lot of running around, too. And all that just to return some old things to retired soldiers or their remaining family. The things mostly consisted of dog tags, photos sometimes clothes that were found on battlefields or while sorting through other stuff somewhere. To be fair, most of the people are very happy to get some memories to cherish. Some are not that happy and ask to get rid of the things because they dig up things that were buried a long time ago. Bucky can understand that very well, that’s why Becca has his own tags right now.Bucky rubs at his shoulder; his prosthetic seems to give him more trouble today. He wonders if his shoulder is too stiff already, it has only been two weeks since it got massaged professionally. Or if it got infected again. That happens sometimes and with all the scarring he has, the fears get more vivid that the doctor was very sloppy in his work. If he had enough money, he would go to the next best doctor, get everything fixed but that would cost a fortune and the military would not help him out since he already got his arm and operations covered before. He lets out a second sigh. What a damn mess he returned to. Everybody tells you that it will get better after returning home, after living a normal life. Bucky thinks he has more troubles now then he had before. A knock on the door startles him out of his thoughts. He looks up just as it opens and a brunette woman steps in. “Maria.” Maria Hill, one of Bucky’s favorite co-workers and at the same time some sort of boss, after Nick Fury of course, holds a cardboard box in her hands. “Hello James. I’ve got something new for you.”“Again? I didn’t even finish the last box.”“I know. But this might be interesting for you. The things all should be easy to get back, too.” She places the box on his table and opens it. “We got a few lost dog tags, some pictures form wife’s and children, clothes and all the usual.”

“Something pretty damaged?”

“No, at least not as damaged as the tags that you’re always carrying around.” She musters his feature as his hand instantly raises to the pocket. “Did you find any clue by now?” She raises her eyebrows, looking really interested. She always tries to help him find the mysterious Captain but until now there’s no lead. “No.” Bucky sighs defeated, flopping back in his chair. “The guy seems to have vanished. I found some guys who were in the same area as we were back then, but no one seems to be either around here or to remember. Just have to keep looking.”

“Did you look through protocols?”

“Yeah, and I asked Peggy. But nothing ‘til now.”

“You’ll find him eventually.” Maria pats him on the shoulder with a kind smile. “Anyway, this here might be a little easier. The tags are pretty good to read, so you shouldn’t have any difficulties to find the ones to return them to. Some of the photos even have names written on the back, could be some kind of help.”

“Thanks.” Bucky gifts her a small smile before he pulls the box closer to look through it. Maria looks him over for a while. “It’s bad again, huh?”

“Hm?” Bucky looks up at her, wondering what she means this time. “Your shoulder. You’re holding it in a protective posture again.” She nods at his shoulder before she crosses her arms. “I don’t understand why you aren’t asking Fury for a new one.”

“Because his answer is going to be the same as last time.” Now Bucky leans back in his chair, crossing his own arms over his chest. “He’s going to say that I already got a new arm, and that the military isn’t a charity organization. We don’t repair what’s already been repaired.” Bucky rolls his eyes and sees Maria do the same. “Should I talk to him?”

“No. I will talk to Phil, try to find out if I have any other option so I don’t need to pay everything on my own. Since then, I have to live with this.” He shrugs his shoulder and suppresses a wince as a sharp pain shoots through it. Maria seems to notice it, her face darkens a bit, but she says nothing to it, well knowing Bucky will deny it if she points it out. “Fine. But do it quickly. It wouldn’t help when your shoulder is too damaged to repair anything.” She is almost out of the door as she turns to him again. “James. Nick says you still have to take your vacation. If you haven’t taken it by the end of the month, he’s going to force you.” He looks up, feeling a little uncomfortable but nods at the woman. “I know.” He watches as Maria leaves before he leans back in his seat again. It’s really not that he doesn’t want a vacation, he just doesn’t know what to do with all the time. He has no family left to visit besides Becca who lives in the same town, no other half to take on dates, Magnolia would disagree, though. She likes it when he spoils her rotten all day and would gladly have him home for a week or so. A vacation also means that he has way too much time to think, too. After he lost his arm he was in a really dark space of his head. It had taken his therapist almost two and a half years to get him back out of it and since then Bucky always tries to take as less free day’s as he can. Still, Fury always insist that he takes his vacation and always makes sure he really does.

While he goes through the contents of the box, he sees a photo that somehow catches his attention. On it is a man, clearly a higher ranged soldier with a woman. They’re both smiling at the little blonde boy in the man’s arms. The boy seems to be around five years old, has a lost tooth but he seems a bit smaller than other kids Bucky has ever seen at that age. He’s also very thin but his eyes shine with happiness as he hugs his dad while laughing. The photo is well used with all sorts of bends and folds in it. The edges turned a little yellow with time and are a little frayed. He keeps looking at it for a while longer and sets his mind to find the owner to this one first. He turns the photo around to see if somethings written on it. “Sarah and me with our little sunshine. 1993.” Bucky reads out aloud. He turns the picture again and thinks for a moment. Where should he start to search? He decides to run down to the archive to ask Peggy about it. She usually has some good ideas to help him.

 * * *

The archive, like almost all archives, is down in the basement of the whole compound. It’s pretty big and each time Bucky is down here he asks himself how Peggy still knows where to find something. Margeret ‘Peggy’ Carter is one of Bucky’s favorite woman. She’s kind and almost always likes to chat with him, always knowing what to say and when to be silent. She listens to him and is actually the only one that never showed him some kind of pity. She always says what she thinks and is honest with him. He appreciates it very much. Peggy even established the lost-and-found unit for the military, having lost her own husband in a war.

He knocks lightly on the door and waits for Peggy to call him in. Never would he dare to just enter. Peggy can be really scary when she wants to be, and he learned that lesson more than once. “Come in.”

“Hello, Peg.”

“Bucky. How nice to see you.” The elderly woman smiles at him and waves him over. “What brings you down here?”

“I need your help.”

“Oh, what for this time?”

“I have this picture. Do you happen to know this man or where I can find something about him?” He passes the picture over to her and she eyes it for a while before turning it over. The year that’s on the paper is one year before Peggy lost her husband, so she knew many soldiers at that time. She hums and mutters to herself before she stands up and shuffles away to vanish behind some of the shelves. Twenty minutes later she comes back with a big box of folders. “This are all the soldiers that got send away in 1993. Let’s see if he was one of them. He looks kind of familiar, but I don’t have a name to that face.” Bucky nods and they go through folder after folder until Peggy hums. “I knew he’s familiar. He was the one to always get me some cake on my birthday. And his little boy was a really sweet one. He drew me lots of pictures, quite talented actually.”

“Show me?” Bucky holds his hand out for the folder and Peggy passes it to him with a bitter expression. “The poor boy. He must be around your age now. Joseph was a really nice man. But in 1993 he was sent to this stupid mission.” The brunette woman shakes her head with a displeased sound. “Something top secret.” She scoffs and Bucky can clearly see what she thinks about it. That kind of mission happe more that one would think and never do the families hear what really happened to their loved ones when they pass away while being shipped off. “The man never came back. Sarah had to raise Steve all on her own. The boy had lots of sicknesses and Sarah had to manage double shifts in the hospital and caring for the boy when he was ill again.” Bucky looks up from the folder and passes it back to Peggy. “You seem to know a lot about them.”

“Sure do. Sarah brought Steve over from time to time. I told her I would look for her little troublemaker if she needs to pull extra shifts. Until he turned thirteen, I think, he was like a nephew. Then Sarah had to move away. Her rent was too high, and I lost contact.” Bucky nods and looks back down at the picture. “Do you know where I can find her?”

“On the cemetery I’m afraid. I think Sarah died a few years ago. The boy must have turned 18 or so.” Bucky raises his eyebrows and looks down at the picture once more. “Seems like a bad life for him so far.” He picks the picture up and looks at Peggy again. “Do you know where he lives now?”

“No. Dear god, if I would know where everybody’s children moved, I would know whole America.” She frowns at him, but her eyes still sparkle. Bucky guesses she has some nice memories returning right now. “Okay, okay, Peggy.” Bucky raises his hands with an amused laugh. “Need some help to get these away before I leave.”

“I got this, you just go and make this boy a bit happier. I remember he was really sad back then. He loved his father.” She waves at Bucky as he leaves.

Pervious Part / Next Part

#Steve Rogers #Bucky Barnes #Bucky x Steve #Reader #reader insert #Yuulina writes #Steve x Bucky

[hvlfwygod]

boxing day | major & abel & lucien (& gabriele)

summary: a surprise opportunity, a battle, an exorcism, a close call, a rescue

tw: stabbing, blood, broken bones, it’s a lil nasty

His head hurt. There had been this pushing, insistent pressure building up behind his eyes all day, and he could barely focus anymore. He was walking back to the Hebe cabin, ready to go to bed despite the early hour. The sun had only just set, but he was squinting just enough to see in front of him, trying to block out the streetlights with his hands. As time went on (how long, he couldn't say) the pressure only got worse, though. It built up and built up and built up until he had to crouch down and put his head between his knees to fight off nausea.

It wasn't clear to Major how long he'd been in control, distracted as he was by the sensation of his head splitting open. It'd been so long since he'd been at the front of his own mind, he almost didn't believe it when he willed himself to move and his body reacted readily. But he didn't allow himself to marvel at it: like every other time this happened, Major had a lot to do and no time to do it. He'd already wasted who knows how long just sitting there, halfway between himself and someone else.

Even though his head was still hurting, Major moved fast. He scrambled for his phone and immediately abandoned the idea when he saw that it was— of course— not fucking charged. Instead, he ran the rest of the way back to the cabin.

"Syd!" he called, practically falling through the front door. But all the rooms were dark and no one was home. Feeling desperate, Major started moving again before knowing exactly where he was going. It became clear to him after a moment, though: some small part of him remembered the party, another lifetime ago, where he'd met Abel. Abel, the person who saw him, knew he was here, and was trying to get Lucien out.

Maybe being the one in control would make it easier. Major didn't know, but he had to try. He ran up and down familiar looking streets, knocked on a few wrong doors, until he finally made it to the right house. At least, he hoped so as he banged frantically on the front door.

December 26th. It was a day of rest after their busy week. Picking Bailey up from Michigan, doing their best to help her recover, hosting groups for Christmas Eve and then the day of. They felt that they had earned a day of nothing. Still, there was a knock on their door.

Abel cast a glance down at Soup. Roommates off on their own misadventures (aka, normal human socializing), the two were in the living room alone and, naturally, sitting in the dark. “You think I should ignore it too, right?”

The cat blinked and Abel sighed as they stood and crossed the room to answer the door. As they opened it, they immediately tensed. Their spear had to be close by; their shield even. Why would Lucien come looking for them if not for a fight. Gabriele had told them to wait, and yet here was the perfect opportunity, presenting itself. They grabbed Major almost without thinking, yanking him inside as they aimed to pin him up against a wall.

The small wave of relief at seeing Abel answer was quickly brushed aside as they reached for him. Major yelped as hands closed around his shirt and pulled him inside. He held their wrists for leverage and tried to stop himself from falling over as Abel pushed him up against the wall. "I'm not—" he struggled to form a sentence and forced himself to let go and hold his hands up. "It's... I'm Major. I know you're trying to..." He trailed off but gave Abel a pleading look. "I don't know how long I have."

Their eyes betrayed their emotions. Anger turned to skepticism to relief to understanding, and they only loosened their grip slightly. "Then come with me." They kicked the door closed before turning towards their room, afraid of letting their mind buffer for too long. If they could restrain Major, then by the time Lucien took control once more it would be too late for him to get away. "Tell me how I can help you."

"I don't know," he admitted in a small voice. It took him a moment to move again, but he eventually followed Abel further into the house. He crossed his arms tightly over his chest, as if trying to hold himself together. It was only when he placed his hands against his ribcage that he noticed how badly he was shaking. "I don't know. But if this doesn't work can you, tell my sister?" Major blinked a few times in a poor attempt to keep his eyes dry. "Her name is Sydney, she lives in the Hebe cabin."

They crossed the apartment into the room with a light, the warm glow of their snake tank almost sinister given the circumstances. Once in their room, Abel took no time to search for and then produce rope. "I've spoken to her already." This was not comforting, they realized, and exhaled as they decided to explain to Major more. "I... don't want to tell you much. In case he gets the information. But know that we're trying to help you, okay? I'm trying to figure out how to do something to him without doing something to you. You regenerate, ya?" They looked down at the rope in their hands. "Can I tie you up? It'll be easier to restrain him while you're willing, and then I won't lose him again."

Knowing that Syd was already aware and trying to get him back made Major nearly stop in his tracks. He almost bumped into something in the dark and stumbled into Abel's room as a few tears slid down his cheeks. "Okay," he said quietly. Major just nodded at Abel's explanation and lowered his hands. "Yeah," he answered. "I, think I heal faster, too, but if I—" His train of thought completely derailed mid-sentence, and Major pressed his eyes shut as a wave of anger washed over him. "You should start tying me up," he mumbled.

Abel looked at Major with sympathy but not pity. This wasn’t a job for a paycheck or personal reasons, it was a job to help a man who was going through something unimaginable. “If you...?” Abel prompted as they took Major’s wrist gently and moved his arm behind his back. The knots were less gentle. They wanted to make sure that they were tight enough to give Lucien a hard time.

He didn't respond right away, too busy focusing on not fighting Abel off. His head was hurting again, this time pulsing with increasingly sharp pains. "If I die I come back," he said, a little stiff and breathless, as if he were holding something heavy. "But I don't know how it works. What are you planning to do?"

The tinny ringing started, sharp and disarming for a moment, making Abel shake their head as they took pause, then continued. “I’m no killer. But I’ve never extracted a ghost from a human. I’ve been warned it could get... messy.”

A chill travelled down his spine. "Then I'll try to—" But whatever else Major had to say about that was lost. Lucien's reaction to this was enough to pull himself forward the rest of the way. He immediately acted, the last word still falling from his lips as he jerked his elbow upward, connecting somewhere on Abel's face. He yanked himself away and tried pulling at the ropes around his wrist to no avail. But his legs were free, so he started to sprint, heading back toward the front door.

Abel grabbed their face rather than at Lucien, then swore as they watched him run away. They staggered back, more disoriented from the blow than they thought they would be, but then forced themself to run forward after him, figuring knowing the layout would work to their advantage, as well as the fact that his hands were tied up. Should’ve done the legs first.

Lucien bit back a curse as he tripped over something, surely alerting Abel to exactly where he was. He gave up on going straight for the door, and instead pressed into the wall while he twisted his arms to grab at the knife on his waist. For everything else that had gone wrong tonight, at least Major hadn't let it slip that he had a weapon. He just barely managed to grab it and get it behind his back before he heard Abel approaching. He fumbled to turn the blade toward the ropes as he ran further into the apartment.

Abel watched as Lucien stumbled around. They hadn’t even considered that they’d have the advantage of being able to see when he couldn’t, but was glad that they could. Their spear was back in their room, and their shield by the door, but they took off after Lucien while reaching for their utility knife instead, afraid of him doing something if he ran into Soup. As they approached, they let the shadows engulf them, fading from vision, and kicked Lucien’s leg to knock him off balance.

One second Abel was there, and the next it was darkness, and then he felt a blow smash into his leg so hard that he immediately dropped to the floor. "Fuck!" he groaned. His head bounced off the floorboards and his knife—which he held onto for dear life— bit into his arm, drawing blood. He groaned and switched tactics again, deciding to stay on the ground and buy himself time. Lucien arched his back and tried pushing himself away from Abel a bit with his feet. He started cutting at his restraints as subtly as he could, glaring up at Abel as he did. "Fuck you," he sneered at them. A bit of the pressure released around his wrist. "If you try anything I'm dragging that motherfucker out with me.”

Abel moved forward and dropped down on top of Lucien, one knee against his chest. They grimaced at Lucien, almost as a way of showing their teeth than anything else. "You can't do that." They had no idea if he could do that, but they were pretty sure he was bluffing. "And if you could, don't you know I have friends in low places? He's not going anywhere."

He knew that his words would cause a reaction, but he hadn't expected Abel to come down so hard. Lucien grunted in frustration and then in pain. This time his grip on his knife was lost and he felt the blade cut into a hand. Lucien snarled back at Abel and tried to wriggle out from under them, grabbing hold of the knife once again despite the pain radiating throughout his palm. "No," Lucien struggled to catch his breath before he continued, "it's already too late."

“You really believe that?” Abel snarled back, grabbing Lucien by the hair. “Not only do I have to deal with an insolent ghost, but an ignorant one.” They brought their fist down towards his side.

Lucien's heart was racing with adrenaline, but he forced himself to stay calm. It was always moments like this where he lost his control, and he couldn't afford that right now. He writhed away from the blow and pulled his wrists with renewed vigor. He'd managed to cut it loose enough before that now the ropes broke after little resistance. Lucien leaned as much pressure as he could from one side of his body so he could lift his already-bloody hand out from under him. With a grunt of effort, he stabbed blindly at Abel's leg.

Abel yelled as they were stabbed, only holding tighter onto Lucien’s hair. You deserve this for not checking if he had weapons. This is textbook, Abel. They grunted and looked from their leg to Lucien. They could attack him and possibly incapacitate him, or they could disarm him, and keep the knife from leaving the wound. They went for Lucien’s wrist, trying to get him to let go of the knife without twisting their own body too much.

As soon as the grip released from his hair, Lucien started struggling more wildly, kicking his legs and twisting his body around in an attempt to get away. His other, more injured arm made it out from under him, numb and bloody and hard to use. The fight to break free also cost him his hold on the knife. Lucien made an angry sound and pounded his hand into Abel's other leg as he pried himself out from under their knee. He took in a ragged breath as he righted himself, but didn't waste his time. Practically trembling with anger, the thought of running away had completely left Lucien's mind. Instead, he tackled them. "It's too late," he repeated as he struggled to pin them down. "You should've just fucking— let me be!"

Abel prioritizing the knife and not moving it just made things complicated, they realized, when their balance was thrown off and they were looking up at Lucien, who was now holding their wrists down. They were bent backwards, already shifting the knife in the wound, and they inhaled sharply as they brought their good knee up, once and then again, trying to knock the wind out of Lucien as they tried to pull their hands free. They thanked the fact that they were in the dark, letting the shadows ebb around them, creating a barrier between the two.

His left hand was screaming as Lucien continued to apply pressure onto Abel's wrists. Teeth gnashing in determination, Lucien bore the blows to his body as best he could, but his arms couldn't keep Abel down. Their hands broke free as the second knee smashed into his ribs. Lucien quickly turned toward Abel's injured leg, gripped the handle of his knife, and pulled out the weapon roughly. I hope that hurt. He brought the knife back down— this time aimed at their chest— but a dark wall blocked his attack. "You've gotta be fucking kidding me."

The knife getting pulled out was pure agony, but Abel still managed to hold their shield up– it was a good thing too, as Lucien’s attack bounced off of it. Pride seemed to swell in Abel’s chest along with their fear. They were not about to be bested by an untrained ghost when they were a child of Hades who knew how to fight. As their shield began to fade, they formed a blade from the darkness, reached up to snatch Lucien’s wrist, and yanked to pull themself up as they pulled Lucien down, sending the dark blade into his shoulder, hoping to incapacitate this arm as well. “Λείπω,” they hissed as their face was close to their ear. “Or I will make you.” They grit their teeth, letting go of the shadow blade to hold a hand close to Lucien’s face, trying once again to force away the spirit within.

In another instant, Lucien was back on the floor and his shoulder seemed to partially explode. A pained cry escaped him involuntarily, but his voice died in his throat once Abel commanded him to leave. For a brief moment, Lucien's whole world went soft and shapeless, but he scrambled to come back to the moment. Ghosts swarmed in protest, trying like him to anchor themselves in their new body. A deep ache formed in Lucien's chest. "N...o..." he struggled, tasting metal as blood trickled out of the corner of his mouth. "You won't... get him back. You can't."

Abel kept their grip strong on Lucien’s wrist despite the way the resonance of the ghosts seemed to reverberate throughout them. They turned their head away so that they could bite down on the collar of their shirt, gnawing at the fabric in an attempt to better handle the pain. Instead of replying to his threat, they just anchored themself and pressed their hand into Lucien’s face, trying to find the right spirit to pull from the body.

Another unwilling wail rang out of Major's body: it wasn't his, or Lucien's, voice. His body jerked, trying desperately to get away. Lucien clawed at Abel's face with his free hand and started writhing. It felt like something, somewhere in his chest, was about to break apart and he could do nothing to stop it. "I'm not— going. I'm not—" This time, his cry was quieter, but far more pained and agitated. He heard a worrying snapping sound and then coughed up some more blood, right into Abel's hand and consequently all over his face.

The blood was concerning and disgusting, but what really worried Abel was the snap. They didn’t relent, however, not even as Lucien began to claw at their face. They had gotten a hold of something, and though it wasn’t Lucien, it needed to come out. They dropped Lucien’s wrist to press their hand into his middle, opting to create armor with shadow to protect themself instead as they pushed at the same time that they pulled. They were past overexerting themself, but they didn’t care. This was coming out, and Lucien was next. They bit down harder on their shirt.

An agonizing burn spread over his skin, and Lucien lost a few seconds of lucidity, and then whatever unlucky ghost that had been grabbed was gone. For a disorienting moment, he wasn't sure if he was really there, taking a few gasping inhales, if his body would move if he willed it. "Listen to me," he rasped quietly. Another gurgling noise, a muffled half-laugh, and Lucien's arm twitched upward but grasped at nothing. "Listen, I'm serious. He's not going to make it if they're all gonna be like this."

Abel came to the terrible realization that Lucien was right as they pulled out what they had a grip on. It wasn’t a full ghost, but a patchwork of a few, trembling as Abel barked at them to leave once more. With nothing to tether them, they sank into the ground, the parts of them that remained dismissed. There was no telling exactly how many more were inside this body, but Abel could tell that if every extraction went this way, Major’s regeneration might not be enough. Still, they didn’t want to give Lucien the satisfaction of a reply, so they jabbed at his head once, twice.

The lack of a response was enough for Lucien. He blinked through the stinging in his eyes and angled his head back so he was staring up into Abel’s face. “I’m not even talking about physically.” The longer he was still, the more this terrible ache settled in his torso— so he tried sliding up along the floor somewhat. “I was dead for a long time, do you know what that did to me? Your friends in low places, they ever tell you what it’s like?” He sneered. “Not all of me came back. I don’t know what, but I can just— I can tell, so when I woke up in this body with all these ghosts, and this whole other person...” Lucien tried to move more; he succeeded in inching his arm slightly, nothing else. “I filled in all the gaps. I took what I needed, and you can’t—“ He managed another laugh, grimacing through it. “I can’t even fucking tell anymore what’s me and what I took. If you pull me out, and he survives it, he’s not going to be the same person. He’s not, and he’ll always know something is missing but won’t ever know what. That’s what I mean when I say you’re too late.” Lucien finally saw a decent enough angle, and willed himself to move through the agony in his shoulder to thrust his arm— and the knife—  upward.

Pain as a knife found its way into Abel’s side. It was blocked and slowed by their armor, they were sure it would have been worse had they not had the hardened shadow to help them. But still, they could tell this was bad. They’d spent most of their adrenaline rush fighting, and now they weren’t sure if their leg was going to support their weight if they stood. Even so, Abel let out a spiteful laugh and pushed into the shadow knife, just burying it deeper into Lucien as they pulled him closer. “You come all this way just to give that shitty speech?” They growled, taking a ragged breath before continuing. “You have no idea who you’re talking to. I don’t need my friends to tell me what it’s like; I’ve been to hell and back myself.” They grasped the hair at the  back of Lucien’s head, then yanked his head back to force him to look at them. “A long time? Try being dead for three years. You know nothing.” Their mouth tasted metallic, but they just continued on. “I want you to look at me and know that some do not decompose. Just the weak.” Their eyes burned, both dark instead of their usual two tones. “You can’t fill in any gaps. He’s a whole person. You. Stupid. Fuck.” They released his hair and brought their fist down on the back of his head, much weaker than before, hoping that their stamina would win out over his.

Lucien was nearly delirious with pain, which might’ve explained why he continued laughing despite being hit again. His arm barely had any feeling left in it, which might’ve explained how he managed to rip the knife out of Abel’s side and stab them again, this time closer to their stomach. They had to be bluffing, they had to be. “Three years and you don’t know shit,” he slurred, pushing himself upright as best he could. “How’d you make it back, huh? How come that’s allowed and I’m not? Fuck you. Fuck you.” Lucien grabbed Abel’s shirt to pull himself up further and pushed them backwards. “If you get to decide if I live, do I get to decide that for you, too?”

As Lucien moved, Abel predicted his movements enough to concentrate their shield on their stomach, and the wound they retained was much more superficial than the others. They pushed themself up more, then winced, back down on one knee. There was no way they could stand on that leg, darkness empowering them or not. They were shaking, and the floor trembled with them. “I made it back because this is my body. What you’re doing right now, you are not living. You are a virus. παράσιτο,” they hissed. Shadows swelled around them, covering their arms, chest, half their face, seeping into their wounds. “I came back because I am Abel Benoit, child of Death. So you’re going to have to try harder to kill me.” They leaned back into the shadows, fully absorbed and invisible now, before lunging forward to get Lucien back on the ground.

What would keep them down? Every time Lucien got a little bit of leverage, Abel hit him back. As he slammed once again into the floor, desperation melted into anger and prompted him to reach for his assailant’s throat. “Give me a fucking break,” he snarled up at them. “I fucking waited, I waited and I held out and I made it back. I deserve to be here, I’m more alive than you and your reanimated fucking corpse. I care about living more than any of you.”

Even Abel, the ruler of waxing poetic, knew when the time for saying cool things was over in a fight. There was also the fact that there were hands around their throat, making it difficult for them to deliver a monologue. They drove two knuckles down into Lucien's windpipe, a quick but strong jab to keep him from breathing. They grinned down at him, letting the fact that they seemed unhindered speak for how well they could hold their breath since coming back.

His hands unlatched from Abel's throat a little too readily. Lucien couldn't do more than make choking sound to relay how pissed, frustrated, panicked he was. He struggled to take a breath and resume fighting, but his head was spinning too badly, and his control felt shaky at best. He wanted to punch Abel back, but his arms refused to move anymore. "Fuck off," he groaned through clenched teeth as the fight began to melt out of his body. Linnaea! he tried, frantic. Lin! Can you hear me? I need you. But she was too far away, or maybe he was already too far under, because he didn't get an answer before he completely lost control.

Major couldn't understand how his body had managed to hold out this long. But for as much pain he was in, he was grateful to still be conscious, since he'd had enough time to claw his way back to the surface. He took another few rattling inhales and pressed his eyes shut. "Abel," he wheezed. "I—" he coughed and tasted more blood, "sorry.”

As the hands fell away from their throat, Abel grabbed them to pin Lucien down fully, and soon they recognized that it was Major they were holding down instead. "As am I," they rasped back. The shadows melted away from them, and their head spun as they found the knife, cut into their shirt, and ripped it to make strips so they could begin tying Major up once more. They pocketed the pesky blade and did their best to tie knots with shaky fingers. "Are you as close to passing out as I am?" They found their phone, but the screen glitched as they tried to use it, and they held it out to Major, before realizing that he couldn't call anyone, as he was tied up. They laughed and hung their head. "Shit. Can you move your hands or did I do an effective job tying you up this time?"

In a matter of minutes, Major was leaning against a wall with his hands and ankles tied in front of him, and it was the safest he felt in months. He was overwhelmed with how badly his body hurt; his arms protested even the smallest movement, like taking Abel's phone. "You did it fine the first time," he mumbled, wincing as he lowered the phone into his lap. "It's my fault. I should've said he had a..." Major's eyes misted over as the gravity of what was happening hit him all over again. He felt so far away, and Lucien's taunts from earlier were replaying in his head. "Um. Who should I call?"

“Don’t say that any of this is your fault or you should have done anything. You don’t have to apologize.” Abel lowered onto the floor, curling up on their side as they heaved ragged breaths. “Um. My roommates. Or Gabriele. Or a healer. Someone like that.” Their eyes darted without their permission, and they sighed. “Thank you.”

It was hard to feel reassured by that when Abel was beside him looking so pained. Instead of dwelling on it, for now he focused on finding someone who could help. Major was tempted to call Syd, but he thought he might completely lose it if he talked to her, so he just found the only name Abel mentioned and switched to speaker phone.

Gabriele was in the middle of a jog when his phone started ringing. He checked the screen without breaking stride and frowned at Abel's name glowing back at him. If they were calling, it had to be serious. Gabriele slowed to a walk and answered. "Hello, friend, is everything okay?"

"Can you come to Abel's house?" Major asked, not bothering to even attempt explaining what was going on. "I think the door is unlocked. Please, it's important."

"Who is this?" Gabriele asked, already turning toward the townhouses.

He shifted and inhaled sharply as pain flared through his torso. "Major." 

A long silence followed this, then Gabriele finally responded. "I will be there in five minutes."

Abel’s eyes began to tick. Right, right, right, down. Right, right, right, down. They let their eyes half-close and focused on breathing through the pain. “Hey,” they said quietly to Major, pretty sure he was off the phone by now. “I’m sorry for taking so long on this, and I’m sorry for how much it’s hurting.” Their eyelids fluttered as they felt a familiar presence come and settle in against their stomach. “Where were you during that?” they jokingly chastised Soup quietly before continuing to Major. “And I don’t know how much you can retain while he’s... present, but I don’t want you to believe a word he says. He sounds really compelling, but so do demagogues, and you don’t listen to them, ya?” They rested a hand on Soup, hoping they wouldn’t get blood on his fur and worry their roommates when they got home. “You’re gonna feel different after this, but it’s not because he took something, it’s because that’s the human reaction.” A shudder ran through them, but their lips ticked upwards. “Do not go gentle into that good night, ya?”

Any feeble attempts Major had been making to keep himself together broke once Abel started speaking to him. He was so sick of this. He took a few shaking breaths as tears began to streak down his face. "Thanks," he mumbled, his voice breaking on the word. But as much as he appreciated their comfort, all Major could think about was how little time he had before he was pulled back under. "I'm trying my best."

It was almost five minutes on the dot when Gabriele shoved open the front door. He was breathless from sprinting, but he still rushed toward Abel's room, only stopping short once he found the two bodies sprawled on the ground in the hall. "Porco cane..." he whispered, dropping by Abel's side. He glanced toward Major, too, noting the restraints. "Explain later, what do I need to do?" he asked, looking between the both of them.

Abel wasn’t very good at comforting people, so they were quiet for the rest of the time as they waiting for Gab. Each second seemed to stretch on for ages, and they could feel themself being pulled under as Soup pressed himself into their stomach, causing them to hiss in pain, but thankful for something keeping them conscious. Their breathing was growing shallow when they heard someone enter their house, and they had regained control of their eye movements, but chose to keep them closed. “Hospital,” they said quietly. “Sorry, I should have called someone with a car.” Now that Gab was here, they relaxed a bit more, nearly melting into the floor. “I might... ambrosia in my room. Some drawer. Only a bit,” they muttered into the floor, their breathing slowing down more. “Can you leave a note for my roommates?”

Gabriele ran the rest of the way toward Abel's room. He emerged after a minute with the ambrosia, then propped Abel up slightly and fed them a few pieces. "I'll call for help. And tell them..." He glanced over to Major once again.

While Abel seemed to relax in Gabriele's presence, Major was more stiff and cautious than ever. Even though it'd be two against one, the last thing he wanted was for Lucien to slow everything down. "Just make sure he doesn't get away," he said when Gabriele looked at him. "I don't care what you have to do."

Gabriele nodded. "I'll take care of everything," he assured them both. "Major, sorry to meet again in such circumstances."

"Me, too," he muttered.

Before he did anything else, Gabriele called for his goddess. While she couldn't fully intervene, she helped move him along quicker than he could have managed on his own. He called an ambulance, wrote a note, and gently helped get Abel and Major into the truck once it arrived, all in a matter of minutes. He even found a set of keys and locked the front door on the way out. Gabriele charmed his way into the back of the ambulance and began to explain, as discreetly as he could, the importance of keeping an eye on one of the passengers in particular...

He wouldn't let himself get his hopes up. Major had taken control twice tonight, and both for prolonged periods of time. He'd never managed such a thing before, but he could feel Lucien's rage rumbling inside of him. He knew the moment the painkillers hit, he'd go under, and probably be unable to surface for a long time. A fresh wave of sadness rolled over him, but for once, Major didn't feel completely hopeless. Still, he wished he'd thanked Abel more, he wished he had more time. But everything he wanted to say would yet again go unheard, since it wasn't long until the pain started to fade out of his body, and Major finally passed out.

#lucien x abel #lucienabel2 #major x abel #majorabel3 #major x gabriele #majorgabriele2 #gabriele x major #gabrielemajor2 #gabriele x abel #gabrieleabel5 #lucien #major #gabriele

[legitlaur]

Brick by Brick // Peter Parker

Peter Parker x Reader

Word Count: 1.8k

Warnings: None

Summary: Tony wants Peter to train with you so he can understand his powers better, but also not rely on them all the time. You’re very distant and stoic but Peter is determined to break down your walls, brick by brick

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Tony knew Peter didn’t understand his power, the brute strength he had. He was worried that if Peter didn’t learn how to utilize and control all of his powers soon, he could hurt someone or even worse hurt himself. Before Tony would let that happen, he found you. You were the key to helping Peter.

“Let’s get you training.” Mr. Stark clapped his hand onto Peters back, guiding him down a set of stairs, “I’ve got someone for you to meet. I think she can really help you understand your power.”

“S-she?” Peter's voice cracked. He wasn’t great at interacting with anyone, but the opposite sex was a completely different ballgame. And Peter didn’t even play sports. 

Tony laughed, “There’s nothing to worry about, kid. She’ll be nice.” He mumbled more or less to himself, “Hopefully.” 

“Mr. Stark?”

Tony could see the worry in those soft brown eyes, “I’m kidding.” He tried to comfort his protégée.

Whenever Tony sensed Peter was more nervous than usual he tried to call him down by talking with him about normal things. Chemistry and tech, subjects that didn’t impact superheroes. He used that technique now while traversing through his complex compound.

“I don’t understand, why am I training?” Peter shrugged, “My skills don’t really require training.” he finally brought up the subject again.

Tony’s face landed in his palm, “If you think you’ve got what it takes to be a hero just wait until you’re done with your trainer. She’s going to kick your ass.”

“I dunno Mr. Stark, I think I could handle anything at this point.” He looked down and spoke under his breath, “Anything but girls.”

“Here we are.” Tony’s hand dropped from Peters back and gestured to the glass doors in front of them, “Through those doors, you’ll meet y/n, she’ll be living here so you can have access to her 24/7.” His playful tone quickly shifted into seriousness, “Be nice, it was different to get her here.” He pushed Peter towards the glass doors.

“Yo-you’re not going to introduce us? Or umm, ya know, walk me in?” Peter tried to fight off Tony’s pushing.

“You got it, kid.” Leaving Peter with a pat on the back, Tony walked back up the stairs.

Taking a deep breath Peter reminded himself that this was just training, he could do it. He gripped the handle, opened the door and slid into the gym. Except it wasn’t really a gym.

There were computers, cement blocks, web-shooters, screens, and designs. Even what he assumed to be a small medical area.

Peter's eyes stopped once he saw you. Your face was tight, jaw clenched. You’re hair in a slicked-back ponytail, he could tell by the way you walked you had confidence. Not a regular teenage girl has confidence, you looked like you could kill someone just by staring at them. He could tell because that’s the way he felt when you saw him walk in. Peter felt as though your stare was peering into his very soul. 

“Peter Parker, you look different than your file photo.” Your voice was loud and powerful, quite a contrast from your small stature.

Peter tried to reciprocate a dominant voice, but cracked his voice mid-sentence, “Y-you have my file?”

You sat down on a small black couch, Peter missed it in his initial glance over the gym, “Have a seat,” your petite hand patted the sofa. “We need to go through your abilities.”

Peter cantered to the leather couch, sitting down a decent distance from where your hand was. He exhaled for the first time since walking into the gym.

You pressed a button and all of Peter's information popped up in front of them. “So you’ve got superhuman strength, we’ll need to test how strong you really are.” You began typing in the air. Peter watched the list come to life, “Also your endurance, it doesn’t matter how strong you are, if you can’t keep it up for very long.”

“Yeah, ok. When do we start?” His legs were bouncing up and down.

“You’re very anxious Mr. Parker.” You mused.

Peter's face flushed with redness, “You don’t um.” Rubbing the back of his neck he looked into your eyes, “How old are you?”

“17, same as you.” You spoke matter of factly. 

His hands were getting clammy now, Mr. Stark never said his trainer was going to be a teenage girl, “Well, if you’re, ya know. If you’re a teenager you don’t have to call me Mr. Parker-”

“What would you prefer me to call you?” She interrupted.

His voice was rushed, “Peter, Peter is fine. What about you? What should I call you?” He wiped away the sweat onto his denim jeans. 

Without hesitation, your toneless voice echoed throughout the room, “My name is y/n, but you can call me whatever you please. Now let's get to work.”

You walked with grace and poise, while Peter stumbled through the unfamiliar area. He followed you into the medical corner. 

“What's all this?” Peter's stomach twisted.

You began tying on a computer, proceeded to look Peter up and down, and continue looking at the screen.

Peter used his hands to cover his body, “What are you doing?”

You pulled a sphygmomanometer from a drawer, “I’ll need your blood pressure and we’ll need to wire you up so I can see your stats while you’re training.”

“Oh.” Peter pushed his sleeve up for the sphygmomanometer.

Day one of training consisted of you picking Peter's brain about his powers, seeing what he knew he was capable of. Peter tried to answer the questions well, but he was so stressed with the circumstances of this girl knowing every detail about his life. 

You sat him down again after a few tests and wrote out a timeline. Mondays and Wednesdays were for power control. Tuesdays and Thursdays were hand to hand combat. Friday and Saturday were rest days, except you refuse to stop working so you’d be working on suits and web-shooters, any tech that would improve SpiderMan. 

Peter dropped onto his bed, he ripped his sweaty shirt off and laid there. Just contemplating what the next few weeks were going to be like.

You were so stoic and cold, he wished you were more warm and welcoming. It was hard enough that you were a girl who is the same age as him, but being so put off-ish wasn’t going to help the situation. He needed to become comfortable with you quick.

After trying to come up with some solutions Peter gave up and decided it best to call May. 

“You’ve gotta hang out with her outside of training Peter. Maybe introduce her to some of your friends, let her see you as Peter Parker, not Spider-man.” May's voice was calm and sweet.

Running his fingers through his curly knots Peter mumbled into the phone, “She’s intimidating, I don’t really want to hang out with her unless I have too.”

His jaw clenched when he heard May laughing, “Every teenage girl is intimidating. You’ve gotta be yourself, show her all of you’re great attributes when you spend quality time together.”

“I’ll try.” Peter huffed.

“Keep me posted. Love you.”

Peter rolled his eyes, “Love you too, May.” 

The next morning, Peter tried to get you to talk about yourself. He asked you question after question. You only answered a handful of them, your answers were concise and distant. It was clear that you thought you were better than him. Peter would have to earn your respect.

He planned to. 

During his short lunch break, he devised a plan to show you he wasn’t just some random kid that got bit by a spider giving him powers. He was going to prove that he didn’t need powers or the suit to be a good superhero. 

“You ready for hand to hand?” The excitement in your voice shocked Peter.

“You like hand to hand, huh?” He tried to continue the conversation. 

Your stoic face softened into a small grin, “It’s my favorite, you get to see how much a person relies on their tech and powers when they are fighting raw.” 

Peter took off his jacket revealing perfectly toned biceps. Your cheeks shifted from snow white into a baby pink. “Ok then let’s do this. I have to warn you though, I really don’t have much experience with this.”

You laughed, a real happy laugh. He could see the sparkle in your eyes. For once you looked gentle and beautiful. He quickly shoved that thought out of his head. “On the mats, Parker.”

The two of you were in your stances. You say go and Peter lunges at you. Being light on your feet you dodge his body completely. Peter managed to safe the fall and spin around. You were already across the ring, watching his fighting style if you can even call it fighting you knew he was offensive. Maneuvering around his lean body was easy, whenever the kid was around you he was a train wreck.

To put Peter out of his misery you finally switched from defense to offense and punched him in the abdomen. Expect he seemed to hardly be affected by it, normally you could knock the air out of someone with that punch. He just stood there, looking confused as ever.

“Get up, your form sucks.” You grabbed his arm and pulled the kid up. “Want a towel, you’re sweating like a pig.”

Peter jumped off the mat and grabbed two towels, “Here.” 

Wiping the sweat from your neck, you stretched, “God, it’s so hot. I can’t do this, Tony needs to work on AC down here.” Before Peter could look away you pulled your shirt off. Revealing your slim figure, the tight blue sports bra makes your eyes pop.

“Okay.” Peter did his best to not look you up and down, but how could he not? You were stunning.

You pushed Peter, he wobbled but didn’t fall. “See, stance.”

“Pushing me isn’t going to help, ya know.” He couldn’t even make eye contact with you.

“Keep tension here,” you placed your hand on his abdomen. He looked into your eyes, you could see the curiosity and hunger in them, “Your feet are too far apart, get them shoulder-width apart.” Backing away you faced the boy, “Throw a punch.”

“What?”

You rolled your eyes, “Throw a punch Parker, I need to see it.”

“But, but I could hurt you?” His voice cracked in frustration.

You fisted your hand and threw your hand towards Peter. You looked up and your jaw dropped, he caught your punch. Seconds later you were flipped over and your back was on the floor.

“As I said, I can hurt you. I know I don’t look like I can lift 10 tons, but I can.” He left you on the mats to grab his water.

You stood up and watched him throw his shirt over his head, and scrunch his sweaty hair. You couldn’t help but stare at his perfectly sculpted body. “Damn,” you breathed.

“I’m done for today.” He barked as he pushed the glass doors open and walked out.

You fell back onto the mat and looked into the fluorescent lights. Somehow you were falling for Peter Parker.

Part 2??

taglist: @laurrenhawker

next>>>>

#peter parker fanfiction #peter parker x reader #spiderman fanfiction #spiderman x reader #marvel fanfiction #peter parker imagine #legit laur #brick by brick #spiderman homecoming #spiderman far from home #mcu #i love you 3000 #tom holland #tom holland fanfiction #peter parker

[darker-side-fanfiction]

🔧Cyberpunk: Android Yukimura: Part 2

Part 2: One person’s trash...another one’s…?

General Trigger warnings: mention of past torture, abuse, noncon body alteration, abuse...if someone thinks I missed something, lmk.

❤️Story beneath the cut:❤️

The first thing Yuki noticed about her was the hand constantly going to reach something at her waist, only remembering it wasn’t there at the last moment. What was it she usually had sitting there? A weapon? Cell phone? It was making him jittery, mostly because he couldn’t protect his current owner from her if she was shady. Would she hurry up and sign her name already? If she was his owner, his last one would no longer be a concern. Not that he was worried or anything...about too many things. What if they decided not to sell him after all? What if she didn’t have the funds or they decided to change the terms? What if...

The endless circle of wondering was cut off as his registry was unscrolled and her signature sealed the deal. That...was that. She was officially his owner now. He sighed, a habit that was obviously getting on his now former owner’s nerves. Come on though. What else was he supposed to do when lacking the ability to speak and thereby convey his frustration? Ugh. Will she just get on with it?! ...Whatever it was. He was too heavy to carry...was she going to take him apart right then and there? Least with him muted, they wouldn’t hear the screams.

Yes, he could feel.

He felt everything. The cold, the heat, someone tracing their fingers along his skin or the instrument of pain they’d decided to utilize in venting the vehemence of their anger. He wasn’t alive, thus his owners were legally allowed to use and mistreat him however they wanted to. But all androids were stuck with the same sensations humans had. He’d heard soldier units could have that turned off by their commander, but the other models weren’t so lucky.

There was a question posed, but he didn’t bother to acknowledge it. She gestured and hollered something at the former owner, but they waved vaguely, already having sunk into a substance induced stupor. It had been happening more frequently. Not Yuki’s problem now. If only he could stop caring about a life he’d been hardwired to protect moments ago so easily. It should be a simple switch for an android. Reality didn’t reflect theory.

The aggravation laced in her tone caught his attention this time. “I know you said you’d muted him. Why won’t my orders to un-mute him work?”

The lackadaisical reply came back, “Ohhh right. My bad. I unmuted him too often, then wanted to shoot him in the head...again. Sooo, you know, I hired a guy, to, uhh—“

“To do what, exactly.”

Yuki snickered. Silently. He could completely sympathize with her, which on second thought felt weird. After a long lapse the puff of smoke was exhaled and the rest of the thought with it.

“To make a more permanent mute. An electronic muzzle, I think? Something like that. I don’t know how to take it off, and I didn’t want to bother with hiring someone to have the process reversed, just to find out the droid hadn’t learned its lesson yet. Was working just fine up until he got himself shot.”

Got himself shot?! He knew they were an ungrateful and miserly human being, but to blame him for having saved their life? Of all the—sigh. He had done his best. Maybe some part of him would be put into a weapon used to defend people. That was...tolerable. He didn’t have anything left to hope for.

That didn’t cut down on the terror clenching his throat shut or the autonomic flinch—almost the only external movement he was still capable of making—when she touched him. Her eyes flickered to his, and it was the first time he’d noticed their color. They were a shade of rust, but not that of decay. They were alive, a fire writhing in the ruddy embers of her eyes. A wrinkle formed between them as she read his reactions. He tried schooling his face, but he was never good at hiding what he was thinking. Speech might be a bit of a problem right now, but it didn’t stop her from seeing his fear. It was summarily ignored.

The woman turned around and rummaged through her backpack; whatever she was doing being out of the line of sight from Yuki’s position. Sick dread coiled in his stomach. He’d always thought he was okay with his fate, knowing he’d one day be destroyed in the saving of his owner’s life, but somehow had always imagined it would happen in a blaze of glory. One second, taking out the enemy or running into the line of fire, the next, a cease of consciousness. Not this, this...waiting. Anticipating becoming pieces and aware of the process.

When she faced him again however, it wasn’t with a cutting implement, or even an electric wrench. She’d set up a hoversled. It abated the rising panic only slightly. His world tilted abruptly and the lack of control he had over...anything...was made more apparent as she wrestled him onto the sled. Besides the discomfort of being manhandled by a woman, he noted her apparent strength in how he was placed on the sled instead of being dropped. His frame could handle it...probably. Usually. Current state might make things tricky, and from her actions it would seem she might want him in one piece. As odd as that was.

His limbs were thrown haphazardly over his body to keep them on the sled, and she pressed a hand to his chest before whispering, “Go to sleep.”

The immediate reaction was to mentally tell her to get off, but his eyelids were growing steadily heavier. He didn’t have to do what she told him...unlike the more recent android models subject to their owners’ command, he had a choice. Sort of-ish. Sometimes. She must’ve messed with his wiring or sent an electronic command he wasn’t allowed to ignore, as the next time he woke up, he was in a very different apartment.

It was something straight out of a horror novel...or his worst nightmares.

#cybird #ikemen sengoku #cyberpunk #android #yuki #sanada yukimura #yukimura sanada #my writing

[qqueenofhades]

oldshrewsburyian replied to your post “Things that have happened today: Me literally only now realising that...”

This is amazing and I would love to hear the story sometime.

OKAY SO????

First of all, I have like.... never been able to figure out the layout of this house. It’s an old late-Victorian brick rowhouse, ordinary terraced street, converted into (theoretically) four flats. You get into the first three, including mine, from the front door, and the basement flat from, presumably, the door on the other side of the street. But the flat that has to be next door to mine would be in the next building, since there’s no room for it (you can literally look at the outside and see my kitchen window and then the next building over) yet there is a door in the hall outside that would have to open into the neighbouring building, but doesn’t. Since it is still for the flat that is part of this house. Somehow??

Fine, you say, it’s above me! And yes indeed, I often hear music/TV playing above me/coming from above my bedroom ceiling. Except there is....no room for another flat up there. There’s like a garret window which doesn’t belong to me and which I cannot figure out how someone else accesses, but not enough space for a full upper-floor flat. The neighbours have been obnoxiously loud on (several) occasions, so I have had to go over and bang on their door. Nobody ever answers or says a word. Sometimes the music stops. Sometimes it does not. I eventually emailed the leasing office to complain about their noise, after which point they were quieter, so presumably either they are real people or the leasing office can communicate with cryptids. But like??? I still cannot figure out where they ARE???

Meanwhile, I never hear a single noise, ever, from the downstairs flat. At one point I knocked on the door and met the guy who lived there. I think he moved out at some point and someone else (or several someones???) moved in. Because we have always gotten twice the amount of mail at this property that you should get for four small flats. Some of it is clearly for people who don’t live here any more, but we have gotten mail consistently for like... half a dozen potential occupants for Flat 2. I’ve tried to figure out who must live there now, but I have No Fucking Idea.

Next, I never ever see my neighbors. Ever. Sometimes I hear them leaving and look and see someone go out the front door, but....very rarely. There’s also a light in the hallway that has to be manually turned on with a switch (either upstairs or downstairs) and which is prone to just like... turn on. Again, someone has to do this, it’s not just motion sensor, but while I sometimes hear footsteps coming up the stairs/someone presumably out there to do it, other times it just switches on for the hell of it, runs on its timer, and turns off.

Okay, so. Remember how I never see my neighbors? Recently, mail for a new name at Flat 1 (basement flat that you can’t get into from this front door) starts turning up.  One day this summer, I am leaving my house in the morning when the door opens from the other side, and a guy comes in. I ask if I should lock the door or if he’s going out. He says he has a key, so I figure okay, that’s probably the guy in Flat 1. Maybe?

The very next morning, leaving the house at around the same time, I run into a woman also letting herself in at the same time. Remember, you cannot get to the basement flat from here. She looks like she’s probably the guy’s girlfriend or wife, but there has also only been one name on the Flat 1 mailings. She doesn’t say a word to me. Outside of those two consecutive mornings at the same time, I continue to see nobody.

ANYWAY, there’s probably more, but that brings us to today. I am arranging to close down my utilities/electric and water/internet accounts etc before I move. I have somehow gotten convinced that I’ve not been paying my water bill for several years, even though I set it up with all the other bills when I moved in and I obviously have had water this whole time (ah, anxiety). I arrange for the water company to call me, and have hours of anxiety over it all last night and this morning in case I suddenly have a huge charge. Anyway so:

Water company calls me. I tell them I need to close the account because I’m moving, and give them my address. They are confused and double check that it’s the right flat. I confirm. They ask if anyone else lives in my flat and if I’m the account holder, which I am. They say the only name they have on the account for this flat is someone else’s. I give them the reference number off a bill that I dug out, they type it in, and then tell me that that account was closed in 2016, so that’s fine. There is a small amount of credit on it. They can mail me a paper check?

Me:

Me:

Me: okay cool cool cool cool cool cool cool?

Them: Are you even in the UK? Where should we send it?

Me: .... yes I am? Old address is fine?

Them: sure! sounds good! bye!

So anyway, the cryptids and/or the parallel reality tenant of my apartment have been paying my water bill for three years, I have no idea what’s going on or if the check is even in my name (not like it’s a lot of money, but still.) I have never received any paper bill or email from the water company anyway, and that was how I realized that I have very possibly been living in the Twilight Zone since 2016.

#oldshrewsburyian #replies #the water bill saga #what even was that

[lailuhhh]

Whumptober Day 5: Poisoned

(Sorry I’m late)

School was done with for the day, thank god. Flash had decided to give him the special treatment and that meant not letting him have a second to himself besides the classes they didn’t share. Decathlon practice wasn’t too bad, MJ had it run a bit long just for extra time for them all to study.

But he was finally home. He had the keys to his apartment in his hands and was ready to relax for a while before going on patrol.

Upon reaching his door, he noticed a package addressed to him sitting next to it. Normally the mail would be sitting in the cubbies by the front door of the building and anything not able to fit would be kept with the landlord.

Peter shrugged. Perhaps it was a new carrier, why they would willingly go to the fifth floor to deliver a package no bigger than a shoebox was a mystery.

He brought it inside and placed it on the table while he put down his bag and got something to eat. May was pulling a double shift so she would most likely be home late that night or early morning. Peter thought he would do something they’d both appreciate and clean a bit before going out on patrol. The apartment wasn’t exactly a mess but it could be much cleaner.

The next few hours Peter spent cleaning; dishes, dusting, vacuuming, sorting clean and dirty laundry, even doing what he could in the bathroom without having to break out the heavy cleaners.

It was a quarter past seven when he finished. It didn’t look perfect but it was much better than it’s original state. He was going to head to his room to finish when he remembered the box he picked up when he got home. It was still sitting where he left it on the table.

He didn’t know what to expect. He hadn’t ordered anything and doubted anyone would send him anything. He half thought it was meant for someone else but it had his name on it. If it had been from Tony, it would’ve just been sitting in his room waiting for him; even if it was from one of the others, they wouldn’t have known where he lived and would’ve most likely just left it with Tony.

Either way, he was a curious teenager. Even if it wasn’t really intended for him, he was going to open it.

He got a knife and cut the edges where it was taped. The scent of almonds hit his nose. Maybe it was one of those companies that sent a free sample of things before hammering you with order and subscription forms. He slipped his fingers through the slots to open it further when it seemed to open itself, or more so explode in his face.

There was suddenly a white cloud of powder in his face.

Peter threw the box away from himself and fell back, knocking over a chair on his way. It stung his eyes and nostrils. He tried to dissipate the lingering cloud around him and found he was extremely short of breath.

He started to panic making breathing even more difficult. Then there was the burning in the back of his throat and chest.

He gripped at his watch, pressing every button he could until he heard an almost silent beep.

Thank god Tony had given him a watch with a panic mode.

It was supposed to be a day of relaxing; Tony finally had a clear schedule for once without needing Pepper to clear it for him. The projects he had could wait, there was no big, secret mission that had to be done, he didn’t even have any meetings. It was just a day to stop.

Rhodey was there. Tony had invited him over to more or less just hang around and catch up on things.It had been so long since they were actually able to sit back, have a drink, and talk about things; good and bad.

He had steered the conversation to Peter multiple times and Tony would merely laugh at whatever was said.

“Tones be serious with me, what is it about the kid? I’m as fond of his as anyone else, but I know he’s special to you.”

Tony put down is glass. “I don’t know Rhodes. He’s just got that- you know” he waved his hand. “He’s a genius, kind and loyal to a fault, extremely humble... don’t even get me started on his stupid idea of righteousness. You’ve met him, you know what I’m talking about. It’s just- it’s him.”

“Yeah, I know what you mean, just wanted to hear you say it for yourself.” Rhodey smirked at him.

The afternoon slowly turned into evening, the two of them swapping ideas and talking about old missions. The atmosphere was calming, but it switched instantly when Tony got an alert from Peter.

“What is that?” Rhodey asked.

“An SOS from his watch.” A watch he’d had for a long time and never utilized before. Whatever happened must have been bad. “FRIDAY give me his location.”

“It appears as though the signal is coming from his apartment. The tracker shows he went there after he got out of school and has been there ever since.” The AI answered.

“Can you give me anything else?”

“No sir. The watch was strictly just to send an SOS.”

“Go Tony. Make sure he’s okay.” Rhodey urged.

Tony was out on the balcony and in the air flying towards Peter’s house in seconds. Within minutes he was in front of the door.

He banged on it, yelling for Peter to open up before more or less kicking it open. The silence was unnerving, there was always something in the background when he visited.

When he entered he expected someone else to be there who maybe caught him off guard; seeing Peter unconscious on the ground, white dust on his clothes and a suspicious box nearby, was somehow much much worse.

“Come on kid.” Tony was by his side, fingers on his neck checking for a pulse, extremely thankful when he found one. “Give me something FRIDAY. What’s this dust?”

“It appears to be powdered cyanide.”

“Cyanide? You gotta be fucking kidding me.”

“I’m afraid not. If he has inhaled a large amount then he’s experiencing difficulty breathing and a weak pulse but is at risk for several other symptoms. He needs treatment immediately.”

“You don’t need to tell me twice. Get a team over here to deal with this mess.” Tony hoisted Peter up and wasted no time in leaving the building and flying back to the tower.

Peter felt a familiar pressure over his nose and mouth. He’s had to use oxygen enough times to know it was a mask to help him breathe. The only thing was he didn’t know why he needed it.

He tried to sit up a bit, feeling pillows already stacked behind him. The slight movement was enough to send him into a coughing fit. He pulled the mask off so he could properly cough and heard a voice calling to him.

“You’re okay Pete. It’s okay. Put the mask back on so it can help. Just breathe, deep breaths.”

He was able to breathe easy after a minute.

“Good, good. Slowly in and out.”

“What happened?” He asked weakly.

“That’s what I’d like to know.” Tony said as he took a seat in the chair next to him. “We got an SOS from your watch and when I got to your apartment I found you passed out covered in powdered cyanide.”

“Is that what it was? It smelt like almonds.” Peter held his head. “There was a box outside the door addressed to me and when I opened it, it kinda exploded in my face.”

Tony rubbed his face. “I don’t understand how you can be so nonchalant about this. Kid someone just tried to kill you by cyanide poisoning.”

“Sorry Mr. Stark but if I’m not then I’m gonna panic and I know even when I’m like this that that’s not a good thing to do.” He smiled slightly.

“No, you’re not allowed to logic your way out of this.” He shook his head. “Is that really all there was to it; just the box outside? No strange person anywhere?”

“No, no strange person anywhere. My spidey sense didn’t even warm me about it. There are security cameras in the halls though so we can probably find out who put it there.”

“Nuh uh. There’s no we in this. You’re going to stay in bed until all of it is out of your system while I go back to your apartment and get the security footage.”

“Mr. Stark-“

“Look! You even have Rhodes here. I’m sure he’ll tell you all the stories you don’t need to know while I’m gone.” Tony gestured to Rhodey.

Peter didn’t see him until he was pointed out.

Rhodey was leaning against a wall, a slight smirk on his face as he watched the two interact.

“I think I got a few stories he’d find interesting.”

“See? All the entertainment you could ever ask for while you’re going to be staying in bed.” He started towards the door. “I’ll be back later and I’ll know if you leave or not.”

Peter blinked at Tony’s sudden departure before laughing. “I’ve never seen him like that before.”

“He tends to get like that when it’s a matter involving you.” Rhodey smiled and sat down in the chair Tony had vacated. “Got anything specific you wanna hear?”

Check out my other stories!

Whumptober 2k18

Like what you read? Why not buy me a kofi?

#avengers #irondad #lailuh writes #peter parker #spiderson #tony stark #whumptober #ironman #short story #spiderman #whumptober 2k18 #james rhodes #war machine #this was longer than intended #but i think it turned out well #IM LATE BUT #I need to get to bed to ill quickly try to do day six before that #aaaaaaaaaaa

[letsimportanttreecollection-blog]

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I have seven (7) points on my license and i can not find affordable car insurance to save my life. Is there anyone out there that has experienced what I am going through and got over it? I need my car and full coverage. On top of everything, im financing so i can not get liability if i wanted to. Help me please.""

Auto Insurance question?

Car hood popped open while driving (apparently was not closed properly when I closed it last) . Damage to windshield and dents on hood. I have a ridiculously high deductible for going to pay myself for the repair. My only question is: I get free windshield replacement thru my auto insurance (no deductible). Is it possible to get just the windshield replaced by them and I take care of the rest? Or are they going to want me to go through them for the whole damage (hood) when I call them for the windshield? Thanks.

I got into a minor accident and decided not to get it fixed so the insurance company is sending me out a check?

but with the lien holders name attached, how does this work?""

IF YOU GET PULLED OVER WITHOUT CAR INSURANCE?

IF YOU GET PULLED OVER AND YOU Have no insUraNce on your car how much is tHE fine???

Will my auto insurance rates go up if I broke someone else's left mirror?

Nothing big, my car hit and cracked only the mirror on someone else's left mirror car. But the thing is I don't have full insurance coverage, only the basic.""

Functions of life insurance?

what is the functions of life insurance

Car insurance and deductibles?

Last year I hit a car the damage was way less than the deductible. The person had on there car. The car insurance company wants me to pay for damage plus the deductible. Is that legal. I have know problem paying for damages, but the damages are only 1/3 of what they are demanding I pay.""

Health Insurance for a College Student in California?

I am a 19 year old who is a full time student in college. I just moved out of my parents home a while back and well I dont have Health Insurance. I'm in desperate need to see a doctor and as well as a Gyno due to menstruation problems and I tried applying for Medical but on the application it said i couldnt go further unless I was a pregnant person or have children. I just need a affordable plan. Any suggestions for a new-adult?

Canceling Geico car insurance?

I've had Geico insurance on my car for the past year and I've found a much better rate elsewhere and plan to switch. I'm in Virginia. How do I go about canceling with Geico? Do I have to wait until a certain time (end of 6mos, etc) or can I do it at any time? Is there a cancellation fee? Thanks!""

Is there some affordable health insurance plan in the U.S. that doesnt have a huge deductible?

Is there some affordable health insurance plan in the U.S. that doesnt have a huge deductible?

most affordable car insurance in las vegas

most affordable car insurance in las vegas

""What are my options, health insurance wise?""

I'm 19 and MassHealth is being a b**** and canceling my insurance. I got no job and I'm a full time student. Is there anyway to get insurance like this? I mean, Massachusetts must have something for people like me. Anyone else having this problem and have a solution? If so it would really help.""

What does an approved provider mean to health insurance company?

I want to list myself as an approved provider for speech therapy but I am not a proferred provider for any health insurance plan.

""My fathers paying car insurance for the car I drive, now moving?

My father pays car insurance but I'm moving will the payment go to me once I move with my car? How can I switch to my name

Umbrella insurance?

instant quotes for the stand alone umbrella insurance in california

""Where can I find good, inexpensive Life Insurance?""

Where can I find good, inexpensive Life Insurance?""

What exactly is a car insurance quote?

literally, is it a QUOTE? what is it?! i feel pretty darn stupid for asking this question. but you know, it's annoying the shiz outta me.""

Where can I get affordable health insurance?

I am a full time college student, and my school offers insurance, but it is expensive. I need basic health care to cover doctors visits, specialist visits, and x rays. The main reason I need coverage is that my back is messed up from a car accident about a year and a half ago and I can't take the pain anymore. I went to my states website and the insurance they offer is currently not accepting applications. I have looked at tons of sites online, but so far am having no luck. Any advice would be appreciated.""

""I heard that if you have good grades, your insurance rate will go down.?""

I'm about to get my permit this summer, but I have one F (I'm not a slacker, but I just couldn't handle the work) Anyway, my mom said that if I don't get this F up, I can't get insurance, cause nobody will insure me. Is this true? Also, another question... Do I only need insurance on a car, or do I need my own insurance or could I drive my mom's car legally (when I have my permit)?""

Why is there such a discrepancy between replacement cost of my house between insurance companies?

My current homeowner's insurance has the replacement cost of my home at $189,000. I've been shopping for insurance and I've gotten estimates anywhere from $250,000 to $700,000. Other agents say I am way under-insured. When I asked my current agent why they set the replacement cost so low, the agent said that I do not have to replace it with the exact same brick Victorian house, I can get a nice modular home for even less than $189,000. My question is why there is such a variation in replacement costs between agencies and why the current broker seems to think I deserve less than I have now?""

Whats a cheap car insurance company for young adults?

Im 19 and im looking at buying a honda civic si 2006 right now im under my moms insurance and im paying 140 for liability only and ive been looking around and all i see is $300 and up for full coverage on a finaced car. I need a cheaper insurance company im a female and i live in florida if that helps.

I bought a car week ago and i get insurance from AIG it costs me $850 for 6 months(full coverage)?

does anybody know cheaper one i am first time driver and my car new toyota scion XA 2006 thanks i really need cheaper one

How can I find affordable health insurance for self employed?

For just me and him we pay $927 a month! He has no medical conditions. I take 3 medications for depression and anxiety, but its been a lifelong thing, and I require not psychiatrist or anything , like that, just the meds from my family doctor to keep my chemicals level. Can we get assistance, or is there special help for the self employed? I'm 35 and he is 40.""

How much will my auto insurance be on a 2013 Kia rio5?

How much will my auto insurance be on a 2013 Kia rio5?

Cheap car insurance?????????

Hi I'm a 22 year old male I passed my test 7 1/2 months ago I got my first car it's a ford escort 1.6 yr 1999 does any one know where I can get really cheap car insurance as it will only be used to take my two kids to school thank a lot.................

Does late payment on car insurance affect credit?

just wondering if a late payment of a bill....say my telephone bill, or car insurance affect my credit?""

Car insurance for 16 year old?

4WD jeep wrangler 1995 16 year old female I'd like to know the geico price preferably but if you can tell me what it would cost around it'd be great!

""Pregnant, on my parents insurance, can I get medicaid for my baby?""

I am a 23 year old student, working part time in retail and living with my mother. I am 25 weeks pregnant. My parents' insurance covers my prenatal appointments, but it will not cover my baby. Will I qualify for medicaid? (I live in California, so here it is actually called medi-cal).... I went to the office to apply, but the lady told me to come back when I was in my third trimester. I really want my baby to get insurance, but I am worried that I won't qualify. I would appreciate hearing your experience if you have been in a similar situation, or know how it works. Thanks!""

Need to find an insurance that will cover infertility treatments?

Please can anyone help me. I have AETNA as my insurance provider. But it will not cover any infertility treatments. I really want to have a baby. My clock is ticking 35 So I will appreciate any info. I can get. THANK YOU!

Home Ownwers insurance? Who is cheap?

What company that may not be well known can provide cheap home owners insurance? A link would be appreciated. This will be for the purchase of a existing home buy, which may close this week. Thanks in advance to all responders!""

""Good,affordable car insurance for 19 year old !?

Ca..

Insurance quote on nissan navra ?

in febuary i will be 17 is there any chance i would be able to get a quote on a truck like that or am i living in a dream world

How much do you pay for car insurance in Ontario? ?

how much a month do you pay a month? what kind of car? anything to lower it? and WHAT AGE ARE YOU? <<<important

Cheapest Auto Insurance??

I am presently using Allstate for my 3 cars... an Acura (let me rephrase that..2 cars the Acura was totalled in Sundays car accident) The Infinity and the Nissan..the rates are about $ 3000 for 6 months for all 3 cars..now 2) full coverage all inclusive insurance.. Are there cheaper companies out there ??? Who do you use? I live in N.Y.. Allstate has really always been there for me I just got a nice check from them for my daughters car...Do you think i could get a cheaper company???

New Car.. Wrecked... Before we added to insurance?

We had liability insurance on our older car, Then bought a new car on thursday, Had a car wreck on Saturday night before we got to add the new vehicle to our new State Farm policy which was to go in effect in about 2 weeks. The liability insurance carrier Gecko was to terminate on 10/29/09 - Both cars in the wreck had pretty major damage. We hit the other car in the rear... And got a Ticket for not having insurance on the new car because our insurance card from Gecko. Only our old car. Will either of the insurance companies pay for the damage to our new car and the damage to the other persons car? If you are an insurance pro please let us know what we should do and what to expect. Thank you for any help.""

How am i meant to afford car insurance?

OK, Im working at island, earning minimum wage. Im at uni and Ive got to pay out 330 every term to pay my train ticket. Lucky Im staying at home so I dont have any rent. Nor am I going out drink anymore. Im looking to buy a car, to get around, get to work easier etc. How I cant see any way for me to afford this. My parents wont help, saying no one helped them. This is understandable as they are keeping me for free, although i clean the house as rent. Im just wondering if anyone knows anyway I can get insurance cheaper (I have pass plus). I just dont really want to get a loan for a car and insurance.""

most affordable car insurance in las vegas

most affordable car insurance in las vegas

What is a good CHEAP car for a 16 year old?

i am turning 16 in a while and i really want a cheap used small suv got any suggestions ????? please help my dad and i are tired of fighting over it

Will Car Insurance Fees Go Up?

So recently i was pulled over for speeding. 50 in a 45. Will my fines go up for just being 5+ the limit? If so how much do you think? Also I'm 16 -Thanks

Contact information for the knights life insurance company of america?

address

Who Pays For Your Medical Insurance?

Another one...who pays for your medical insurance?? The place i work for pays for my full coverage with NO out of pocket expence on my part and NO money taken out of my paycheck? Does your company also pay for you or do you have to pay some out of pocket money?? If i had a choice i choose them to dock me my half hour lunch as long as they are paying for my medical insurance..thats more important to me..What do you think??

Will i get any payouts on my car insurance?

hi there i had an accident back in december 2012 that was NOT my fault but did not declare any points om my licence when i took my insurance policy out, becaus this was not my fault will i still get payed out for my car or any compensation claims elsewhere to thatr accident""

""On a family plan (Car Insurance), Must all members covered live under the same address?""

My boyfriends dad is a penny pincher and has my boyfriend under the families car insurance to save money. I don't know if it is legal or not, but my boyfriend does not live with his parents (and the address on the insurance is his parents house). He is also is not insured on the car he is driving (his dad is, because he has points)... Will someone please say if this is allowed...so we can put this argument to rest!""

""Who is the best, but affordable car insurance out there ?""

Just bought a new vehicle and have state farm insurance. But with the new vehicle, my insurance went up.""

Insurance on ford focus?

i recently came across a cheap ford focus 2000 edition, and recently passed my test and just wondering what would the insurance be like? exspensive? i really like the car but i dont want it if the insurance will be a bomb""

""I'm just wondering, is there anyone here who can't get health insurance?""

If you do have it, how do you get it? and if you don't have it, why not? Spiritually speaking, of course""

What insurance has the cheapest rate for teenagers in California?Is there a company that insures only a driver

What insurance has the cheapest rate for teenagers in California?Is there a company that insures only a driver

How to appeal declining application on Health insurance?

I just received letter from Blue Shield of California on my recent application for health coverage, I am asking for any suggestion on appeal and my rights in this process. My COBRA is running out, and this recent application took 2 months before they turned me down. I considered myself fairly healthy other than a monthly low dosage cholesterol prescription. Any help or suggestion is appreciated.""

What kind of Life Insurance is out there for the Elderly? 70 years old and up.

I've seen some on TV and for the life of me, I can't remember all of what's out there. So far, there is no life insurance on my husband's mother and he and I are wanting to take out life insurance on her. What kind of life insurance is out there for ppl 70 years and up that does not require a medical background? She has a bad hip, smokes like a turned over train, and she hasn't had a physical in aprox. 15-20 years. And she has no assets of any kind to help with expenses if she should pass unexpectantly. This is why my husband and I feel that it is important that we take out Life Insurance on her. Thank you for your help. :-)""

Suggestions for health insurance.?

I'm an owner operator truck driver which a means I need to get my own health insurance. I'm seeking the best coverage for the money.

How much would insurance be for me?

I am 19 years old and gonna buy a used car soon. My parents have never drove or owned a vehicle in their life. I live in San Francisco. I know the insurance gonna be expensive for me.. Is there a way to get cheaper insurance?

Can my car insurance be in a different name than the title of my car?

Can I put my car insurance in my dads name, if the title is in my boyfriend's name? I've heard that it doesn't matter as long as both people live with you, but is this true? I don't know!""

Do red light camera infractions hurt your insurance?

on the ticket it reads: this infraction will not be a part of your driving record and will be processed as a parking infraction. I live in Seattle, WA.""

Can someone give me a rough estimate?

I'd like to get a vr6 Vw gti as a first car. How much would insurance be ( roughly ) for a 16 yr old male? NO LINKS TO INSURANCE QUOTES!!!

Cheap insurance for a 95 reg 4.6 litre Range Rover as a young driver.?

I am aged 18, have had my license for over a year & have one years no claims discount. I have recently purchased a Range Rover with cost nothing to transfer over from the car already on my policy, however upon renewal it will cost me a whopping 4K to insure! Does anybody know of any companies which either specialise in this department or will be able to get me a cheaper quote? Currently I have tried both confused.com & comparethemarket.com but was wondering if there are some other cheaper companies which are a little more unknown. Would be really grateful if someone helps me find a cheaper quote as that is just daylight robbery.""

What is balloon insurance?

do i need balloon coverage

Where can I find a comparative listing for auto insurance rates?

Where can I find a comparative listing for auto insurance rates?

Can I buy triple a auto insurance with a permit? California?

So due to curtain circumstances, I need to get my own auto insurance, the catch is that I only have a permit. what I wanted to know is if a major insurance company, like triple a, would cover me, if so would it cost more than a newly licensed person, and if not does anyone know a minor insurance company that would.""

What is the best insurance company?

Looking for home and auto insurance.

Car insurance 17 year old?

I'm turning 17 in April, I was just wondering what the average car insurance prices for somone who is 17. I tried getting a quote but seeing as i dont actually have a car yet, its been quite difficult. How do they give quotes, based upon engine size, make or something completely different? Thanks.""

Which car insurance should I get--First Timer?

My first car--and I haven't a clue about what car insurance to get. At the website they ask questions and I'm not sure what they mean... This is what I want: I want my car to be covered in an accident, I want some money if I get hurt. If I get sued/it's my fault, I don't want to pay a lot out of pocket. Is that so much to ask? Thanks for your help!""

For how many traffic ticket you get before insurance rate increase?

i had a speeding ticket 3 yrs ago and it was dismissed after one yr. now i just got another red light ticket. will my insurance consider this red light ticket as second ticket or first and will they increase rate?? and for how many traffic ticket you get before insurance rate increase?

most affordable car insurance in las vegas

most affordable car insurance in las vegas

Car insurance help and rules?

Okay so I am 18 years old living on my own completely dependent. Now if I put my dad as a secondary owner to my car so I still have possession of it and got on his insurance would it be cheaper? Or would it have to be his car. I live in Oregon by the way. And also could I get better rates if say I got on my grandma's insurance? Is that possible considering she isn't my guardian or anything and I don't live with her? Because she has the best credit known to man and I know that affects your rates. If you have have any tip on how I can stop paying 250 a month on my 94 Accord which is 4 door (yes I'm getting very raped by American Family) I would appreciate it.

Should I accept a $500 settlement from an insurance company for a stiff neck suffered in a car accident?

I was a passenger in a car accident two weeks ago. My only injury is a stiff neck. The insurance company of the at-fault driver has offered me $500 to settle. Should I accept it or fight for more (for example, by threatening to sue)? Should I see a doctor and bill the insurance company for that, even though I wouldn't normally see a doctor for this injury? I'm not really concerned about the seriousness of the injury; the pain will probably go away eventually. I just want to get the amount of money I deserve.""

Pay Monthly Cars and Car Insurance Package?

Hi does anyone know of any UK Company that offer a new car and car insurance combined into 1 monthly payment? I know of Young Marmalade but I would like to see if there are any other good and cheap companies out there. Thanks

Does your insurance cost increase if you get a ticket but no points on your license?

Does your insurance cost increase if you get a ticket but no points on your license?

""What is the average malpractice insurance cost for a general radiologist practicing in Atlanta,GA?""

What is the average malpractice insurance cost for a general radiologist practicing in Atlanta,GA?""

Why are car insurance rates so high in sunbury-on-thames?

Thanks

600cc sports bike good for a beginner? gsxr600 or zx6r?

ive never ridin a motorrcycle before and im looking at getting a gsx-r600 or zx6r. Im taking the safety course which is 10 hours of riding and 5 of classes which i realize isnt a lot. I drive stick shift cars so i get the point of shifting the bike. Ive ridin a dirtbike once and quads once but i seem to be a natural on anything with a motor so im not nervous at all about getting a racing bike starting. A lot of people say a 600 is to big for a first bike but i know people that have them and say they arent that bad as long as you dont drive it like an asshole. I plan on really taking it veryyyyy easy the first summer out and not pushing anything untill i feel extremly comfortable with it. My question is should i get this for a first bike? Im not getting a 250 dont even bother with that. Ive seen the 650's which are more begginer friendly but i just feel ill outgrow that within the first year and ill lose my money by selling it and buying a 600 instead of getting the 600 in the first place

Does my car insurance help me get another car if my car is totalled?

I was in a car accident last week, which wasn't my fault. The auto body shop said my car is totalled because of the damages, it can't get fixed. The other person's insurance is going to pay it off because of the loss, I have full coverage and my question is, can my insurance get my another car or do I have to get it myself? I got it in April, gave a down payment, and have only made one payment. I need a car badly for work!!""

I was banned for drink driving does anyone know any cheap insurance companys?

before anyone says i know i was stupid but i was just over the limit, im looking at buying a nissan micra or something small and i wanted to know where to get the cheapest car insurance""

Can I have an estimate on my car insurance?

I am an 18 year old male, in the state of Pennsylvania who is gonna buy his own car. I have never been in a car accident or gotten a ticket in the past 2 years I've been behind the wheel (with my moms car). I also have State Farm insurance. Can someone let me know how much It would cost if I got a car insured under my moms insurance? Or maybe if it could be cheaper for me to get my own plan? Thank you!""

How will this affect my CAR INSURANCE?

Hi, I recently drove my dad's 2005 Infiniti G35 into a ditch. It was a rainy day and I lost control. There was no apparnt cosmetic damage but around 3500 dollars damage from hitting one of the wheels on a hard object as well as a torn gas tank underneath. There were no other vehicles involved. Im 18 and have no previous records or offences. Im going back to University residence soon so I'll be taken off the insurance. I was wondering if my parent's insurance rate would increase even though im not listed?""

Insurance companies trying to get money?

So, my little brother was born early and has delayed learning. He can to everything right. His speaking is a little slow but it's getting there and has come a LONG way by the help of many people that we know personally, and in physical/occupational therapy. Now, the insurance companies are saying that they will not pay even though he is fully qualified. We have many letters from his teachers. How often does this happen? It's not been the first time. :(""

How can OBAMA force people to pay for health insurance without providing financial security as first priority?

Guess it is real hard for the people with huge income's to understand what life is like for millions of Americans going without proper diets/food/income NOW like about 50-75 million people in USA mostly several generational Americans while the federal govt keeps providing cheap labor immigrants for business!!!

Where can I find Auto Insurance with High points on My License?

I have 10 points on my license for minor infractions and now I am having trouble finding affordable insurance.

Would you purchase this type of car insurance?

I wanted to test a business idea. 1 million people come together each paying 225.00 membership fee. This membership fee includes one years fully comp car insurance. In year 2, all of the companies costs are calculated and split between members. So if costs are 30m then each member pays 30 and this fee includes a years fully comp car insurance. My question to you is, if this business idea were proposed by a large brand (to give it credibility) would you purchase this style of car insurance? If no why not? You don't need any no claims (although you still accumulate them should you wish to leave), there is no excess to pay on claims, the insurance category of your car isn't relevant (inc make and model etc), and your insurance is fully comp.""

Insurance on a new and used car?

I was wondering what would be cheaper, insurance on a new car, or a used car (nothing too old though, 2004 to 2008)""

Why can we not demand that the bozos in washinton pay for their own medical insurance?

i have cardio myopathy w/ congestive heart failure...my insurance plan???...a do not resuscitate order.

Why insurance agent do not market term insurance?

I am working in an IT company & agent comes to our company for marketing ULIPs. By reading various articals on ULIPs, I now understand the charges & I wonder how these agents hide the charge story partially or completely. Some of my teammates blindly sign on the policy parers & get trapped in the ULIP trap. I asked all agents for Term Insurance & most of them clearly refuse that they only sell ULIPs.I want to know that why Agents & insurance companies have a single point agenda of selling ULIPs & not market term insurance.""

""Will my insurance go up, if I jumped lights?""

Will my insurance go up, if I jumped lights?""

I need cheaper car insurance.?

Alright, so right now, I have progressive car insurance and I pay about $190 a month. I'm 19, 20 in August. Have had my license for one year. no tickets, no accidents. old cheap car. I just want PLPD insurance that isn't so expensive. I've been told I'm paying too much. I've tried getting quotes from many insurance companies online. The insurace I have now is the cheapest I can find. I have my own policy.I 'm all on my own. Does anyone know where I could get cheaper insurance?""

""How to lower my car insurance, young driver.?""

I am 18 going 19 this year, and i want to know how i can possibly make my insurance cheaper, legally. I took my pass plus which is meant to cut the price down by a bit, but I've found most internet comparison websites don't ask if you have achieved pass plus, so would it be ideal to get a quote online THEN ring up and try knock the price down? Also what else can i do to cut the cost down, legally?""

""Do you have to insure a car, if you dont drive it?""

I am 17 and currently learning to drive. I have found an ideal car, peugeot 106 quiksilver to precise. and looking at the specs i really do like this particular one that for sale at the car showroom. It will be another 2 months untill i finish all my classes and take the driving practical test. by this time this car may be sold and i might miss it. Due to the high car insurence for young/new driviver myself and me with the provisional liscense, it may be something that i cant afford. So i want to buy the car and park it in my street. so here is the question: Will the veichal need to be insured if i dont drive and just intend to leave it parked at all time on a driveaway/street? and will it be illegal if i do not insure it? P.S. i am intending to to drive the car only after i pass my practical test and also after taking Passplus""

How much roughly would car insurance be for a new male driver aged 25?

My husband is going to take his driving test soon so we can buy a car but i dont know how much to budget in for car insurance as neither of us has driven before and haven't dealt with car insurance before. We would probably just buy a cheap runaround like a ford fiesta 1.4 engine or a car like this (roughly 500 in value) and wondered hw much we should expect to pay for a years insurance on this. i know it will be more expensive than other drivers as its for a new driver and a male but I would really appreciate it if someone could give me a rough figure. thanks :D ps. i dont need links to any comparison sites as they only work if you have a car already and all the details! thankyou! :)

Insurance without a tag?

In the state of GA, is it possible to drive a car with insurance but without a tag? Do you have to get both at the same time?""

Is credit used in determining health insurance rates?

I am licensed in GA for property & casualty insurance, so I know credit is used to help determine rates for auto & homeowners insurance, but it is considered in health insurance?""

most affordable car insurance in las vegas

most affordable car insurance in las vegas

https://www.linkedin.com/pulse/porsche-insurance-services-jayden-stone/"

[piperemerald]

one a.m. (part 1)

The only reason Evan agreed to work the midnight shift was because he thought that no one would want to buy coffee at midnight in the first place. For the most part, he was right.

Evan could deal with the occasional drunk stumbling through the doors with the hopes that a quick cup would sober him enough to walk home. Once in a while a couple on a late date would buy two lattes before leaving to one of their apartments to engage in whatever happy people did behind closed doors. Sometimes, a college student would end a study session by ordering whatever pastries the cafe had left. But Evan spent most of his shift standing at the cash register with a book spread open on the counter in front of him.

Not once had Evan ever known any of the cafe’s late night customers. At least, he hadn’t until Connor Murphy stomped toward the register one night when it was nearing one a.m.

Evan knew Connor. They’d gone to school together since second grade. Connor’s sister was one of the few people in high school that actually talked to Evan. Now that he was in his third year of college, Evan still kept in touch with her. A while ago she’d mention that Connor’s university wasn’t very far from the community college Evan attended.

Still, Evan doubted that Connor had any idea he existed.

“Good morning,” Evan smiled when Connor walked the the register.

“Can I get a coffee?” Connor’s words were polite if his tone wasn’t.

“Right, yeah,” Evan nodded. “What size?”

“Regular,” Connor stated.

“Okay,” Evan forced a smile as he took the dollar fifty from Connor.

“Are you gonna ask me what my name is?” Connor wondered dryly.

“No, I know,” Evan blurted before he could stop himself.

“What?” Connor gave him a guarded look.

“I’m sorry,” Evan stammered. “I mean, you’re Connor Murphy, right? I, um, I know your sister.”

“You talk to Zoe?” Connor looked surprised, but not angry.

“Yeah,” Evan nodded quickly.

“Right,” Connor cleared his throat.

Evan jumped to making the coffee. Connor leaned on the counter, eyes not leaving Evan. The gaze was distracting, it made his hands shake, but he wasn’t going to say anything. Connor probably already thought he was a weirdo, Evan didn’t need to enforced that anymore.

“Here,” Evan placed the cup on the counter.

Connor made eye contact with him for a second before taking it. Evan expected Connor to leave now the way the drunks and the couples did, but instead he sat down at one of the tables Evan thought were only utilized in the daytime. Evan watched Connor take the lid off of the cup and raze the probably steaming drink to his lips.

Evan whipped his gaze back to the book that still laid open at the counter. Staring was a bad idea. He didn’t want to offend Connor, but who stopped at a cafe at one in the morning?

For the next fifteen minutes, Evan was barely able to read a page. Every few seconds he couldn’t stop himself from sneaking a glance at Connor, who was just sitting there drinking the cup of coffee. He didn’t even have his phone out.

Evan wasn’t sure if he should be saying something. When two people were alone in a room it was normal for them to make conversation, but Evan didn’t know what to talk to Connor about without sounding creepy. It wasn’t that Evan asked about him, but it was normal for Zoe to mention her brother when she called of texted him.

He knew that Connor was an art major, that he’d really buckled down work wise after graduating high school, and that they made sure to call each other at least once a week. She was proud of him, but Evan was fairly certain that Connor wouldn’t appreciate his life being talked about to someone he regarded as a stranger.

When Connor finally finished the coffee and stood up, Evan couldn’t help feeling relieved. He didn’t expect Connor to pause at the door and look back at him.

“See you around, Hansen,” Connor stated before disappearing through the door.

Evan was left alone and gaping.

The next morning, Evan wasn’t ready for Connor to walk back into the cafe. He’d done his best to pass off seeing him as some weird fluke, and tried very hard not to worry about why Connor knew his last name. Which was Evan’s way of saying he’d worried about it a lot. He’d been so worried that Jared had offered to switch shifts with him so he could avoid ever running into Connor again.

Evan refused that. He didn’t think Connor would come back, and even if he did that was better than having to talk to ten people within minutes. Evan tried to remind himself of this when Connor was standing in front of him.

“Hi,” Evan gripped the hem of his shirt.

“I’ll get a coffee,” Connor said in a tired voice, placing the money on the counter. “Regular.”

“Okay,” Evan scrambled into movement.

He’d never thought that he was that good at making coffee, but he was decent enough to get his job and he’d only ever gotten one complaint.

“I remember you,” Connor’s voice startled Evan. He jolted, spilling the hot water he’d been pouring on his hand. “Shit, are you okay?”

“Yeah,” Evan said quickly, ignoring how his skin burned. “I’m fine, sorry.”

“Why are you apologizing?” Connor questioned. “I’m the one who startled you.”

“I know—sorry—I mean,” Evan sputtered.

“Calm down,” Connor said in a level voice.

Evan just nodded, trying to refocus on making Connor’s coffee.

“We went to the same high school,” Connor continued what he’d been saying before Evan jumped.

“I know,” Evan glanced back at him.

“That’s how I know your name,” Connor told him.

“Oh,” Evan said dumbly.

“Sorry if I freaked you out last night,” Connor said. “It just took a bit to recognize you.”

“It’s okay,” Evan said softly. He finished making the coffee and handed it to Connor.

“Thanks.” Connor didn’t sit at a table to drink it this time.

Evan watched him walk out the door, feeling no less confused than he had the night before.

“Zoe told me this place existed,” Connor informed him the third night.

“That makes sense,” Evan realized.

He should have never told her that he’d had a crush on Connor back when they were in high school. It shouldn’t matter now, he’d been over it for years. Even calling it a crush felt like a stretched. They’d never spoken, and looking back it felt almost creepy. But Evan had been in the closet and Connor had been beautiful.

Connor still was beautiful.

“Why?” Connor asked. Evan felt like he was being called out on the thoughts that sixteen-year-old him should have kept to himself.

“She just said once that she thought we’d get along,” Evan stammered.

“Of course she did,” Connor rolled his eyes.

“Sorry,” Evan didn’t know what else to say.

“You gotta quit apologizing about literally everything,” Connor told him. “I’m not annoyed at you.”

“Okay,” Evan mumbled.

“She doesn’t think I have friends,” Connor sighed.

“Do you?” Evan asked before he could stop himself. “I’m sorry, I didn’t meant that to sound—”

“I don’t,” Connor cut him off. “But I don’t need her shoving me in the direction of the only person she knows that still lives here.”

“Do you want the usual?” Evan asked. Connor still hadn’t ordered. It was almost like he wanted to talk to Evan.

“Yeah,” Connor handed Evan the money.

“Do you remember me?” Connor asked suddenly. Evan did a very good job of not dropping the paper cup in his hands. “From high school, I mean.”

“Yeah,” Evan nodded.

He remembered how Connor’s hair was two inches longer than it was now, how he rarely went to class and when he did he was always drawing something instead of paying attention, how he never so much as paid Evan a glance in the hall.

“I was an asshole back then,” Connor stated.

“You weren’t,” Evan said a little too quickly.

“I was, and still am,” Connor winked at him.

Evan turned back to the coffeemaker in an attempt to hide his blush.

“Here you go,” he gave Connor the cup.

“Do you talk to my sister a lot?” Connor wandered to the table he’d been sitting at before.

“Not that much,” Evan chirped.

“Right,” Connor gave him an odd look, before directing his attention away.

Evan watched him swing the messenger bad that he’d worn around his shoulder onto the empty chair next to him. He pulled a sketch pad out of it. Evan was staring again. He tried to busy himself by sorting the cash register. Never in his life had he felt more in need of busy work.

“Are you in school?” Connor asked, his eyes not looking up from the sketch pad.

Evan spent the next half an hour telling Connor about college, and why he was working the midnight shift at a tiny cafe, and every other thing that popped into his head. It was only when Connor had finished the coffee that Evan realized he’d been rambling while Connor sat silently listening to him. He opened his mouth to apologize, when Connor cut him off with a grin.

“You should talk more,” he told him.

“Or less,” Evan said sheepishly.

“No,” Connor tore out page he’d been drawing on before tucking his sketch book back into his bag. He folded the paper and placed it in Evan’s tip jar on his way to the door. “Definitely more.”

Evan waited until Connor was gone before fishing out the paper. He unfolded it to find a detailed drawing of the apple tree Evan had babbled about wanting to someday plant when he could afford his own house. Evan blinked at the beautiful drawing before folding it again and tucking it into his shirt pocket.

Maybe he wasn’t exactly over his crush on Connor Murphy.

Also on AO3

#deh #dear evan hansen #tree bros #tree bros fic #coffee shop au #tree bros aesthetic

[fadedtoblue]

Recap of the Defenders panel at SDCC, pt. 2 (aka just a beat by beat recap of episode 1...)

If you missed, it you can catch part 1 here. I’m sure you can find videos of the panel out now, but if you wanted my additional commentary, there you go, haha :).

I’ve been writing bits and pieces of this since Friday night, so needless to say, I’m starting to get a little fuzzy on the order of the scenes and specifics b/c I was in such a state of shock while watching (and I don’t get the benefit of rewatching it right away 10 times in a row, lol), but I’ll try to recollect as much as possible, as best I can. I’ll also share some of my opinions and theories at the very end.

Some brief, non-spoilery thoughts: This was definitely a set up episode for everything that is to come, so as much as I know everyone wants answers to certain questions, you’re just not going to get to them right away. The show doesn’t hesitate to pick up the threads left from each individual series though, so don’t expect it to be slow at all. They also did a lovely job making each Defenders’ scenes look and feel like their own shows, while still bringing them all together into a new kind of feel and style for The Defenders. I was impressed by that. Anyway, if you have any more general questions, feel free to send me an ask or note.

And now...I shouldn’t have to say this, but just in case...HUGE SPOILERS FOR THE FIRST EPISODE OF THE DEFENDERS UNDER THE CUT! (Apologies for any mistakes, I wrote too much and just want to get it posted rather than spending even more time editing!)

Opening scene:

Very first scene opens in Phnom Penh, Cambodia. An unnamed man is being chased by a woman in black wielding double katanas and shrouded in darkness down some sort of sewer-like corridor, exchanging blows, and the man is clearly getting overwhelmed in the fight. Before she can land the killing stroke, Danny appears out of the darkness and jumps into the fight to draw the woman away. Danny is holding his own, but the woman is clearly a superior fighter, and lands a nice slice across Danny’s tattoo; in his shock, the woman gets the opening she needs and stabs the mystery man to death. Danny tries to chase down the woman, who is running away, and manages to land one Iron fist-packed punch on her, which sends her flying, but she disappears as quickly as she appeared. When Danny returns to the man, Colleen is with him, and we see that he’s clearly dying. After a bit of back and forth, the man tells them that their fight is not there, it’s in New York. Very mysterious, and Danny is extremely frustrated. This has apparently been one of their biggest leads in their search for the Hand, and just like that, he’s gone. Also, it’s pretty obvious this woman is Elektra, and the most impressive thing was how much her fighting skills had supernaturally improved. A small hint at the power of the Black Sky! (Note: there’s really no hint as to who this guy could be, and I originally assumed maybe he was affiliated with the Hand, like Bakuto’s faction or something? But the end credits mention Shaft, who was announced as a character on the show, and plays a big role in the Chaste, so that’s an interesting tie in!)

Opening credit sequence:

New song and graphic styles, I really can’t recall now, but think the instrumental had a kind of synth-y vibe. The backgrounds are basically outlined, lit up, 3-D maps of New York, but they form each of the different characters in their main color palette. It’s super cool. The names on the credits also utilize an effect on certain letters to make it look like a subway line design (i.e. Charlie Cox’s name has a C in a circle). It’s a cute touch and really drives the whole “New York is the fifth Defender!” thing home.

Okay, this is where the order of these scenes gets a little iffy in my head, not to mention we do switch between the characters pretty often this episode...I think I’m fairly clear on the details themselves though! I’ll basically try to summarize everyone’s scenes in one go and then summarize the closing act on its own!

Jessica Jones:

Jessica is (surprise, surprise!) passed out drunk in an empty bar and gets rudely awakened by the bartender, who helpfully informs her that it’s morning and she should probably get out of his bar. Next, we see Trish is running across the street to keep her car from getting towed, but the cop is an ass and refuses to unhook it. Suddenly, we see the car get pulled off by an inexplainable force! Turns out it’s Jessica, who snarkily asks the cop if he has a problem, and Trish has trouble holding back a smile. Now we see Trish and Jessica walking down the street with coffee cups and fighting over Jessica’s life state post-Kilgrave, one that involves a lot of drinking and zero working, which greatly concerns Trish. Trish lets Jessica know that she’s been getting a lot of interest in her story and wants Jessica to take some interviews, if only to make some extra money while she’s not working. Trish says something to the affect of, only you (Jessica) could take a personal triumph and turn it into despair, or something like that. Jessica tries to tell her not to worry. Trish takes a sip of her coffee and nearly spits it out -- turns out Jesica had handed her coffee to Trish and Trish finds out the coffee has whiskey. This got a pretty good laugh during the screening :). Jessica is then shown walking down the hallway to her apartment -- the window is boarded up and clearly hasn’t been fixed since JJ S1. There are two people standing outside the door as she approaches, a woman who seems well-dressed and pulled together, and her teenage daughter, who is snarky and disdainful toward Jessica. The mom heard about what Jessica did and wants her to take a case -- her husband has been missing for a week -- and Jessica flat out says no. As the woman presses her case, Jessica goes into mocking mode, and suggests that everyone thinks THEIR partner would never do anything like this, but usually they’re always cheating. The daughter lobs a few snarky comments at Jessica and the mom, and finally the two of them leave. Jessica seems to have a moment of remorse as she’s opening the door, turns around, and calls out to them. The woman turns around hopefully but Jessica only says that she hopes they can find him soon. The inside of Jessica’s apartment is still absolutely trashed from all of the Luke / Kilgrave stuff from S1 -- part of the scenes are shot through the hole in the wall, which is hilarious. She gets a phone call, and someone using a voice scrambler warns her not to take the case. Dun dun dun! We know what that means!!

Later on, you see Jessica sitting at her desk with her laptop open, using her expert Googling skills to learn more about missing mystery man. At this point, Malcolm strolls in, which pisses Jessica off -- she’s already told him to stop coming into her apartment, he says she gave him a key, she counters that he made himself his own copy of the key, he helpfully clarifies because he was helping her get her locks changed, banter banter banter. I want to know that Malcolm has beefed up a lot for this show. It was noticeable lol. He immediately notices she’s on her computer and absolutely lights up, asking whether she’s taken on a case? She insists she hasn’t taken it...yet, and he’s basically celebrating that she’s totally taken the case and runs over to hover over her shoulder while she’s researching, which pisses her off. They talk briefly about the guy who’s missing, and Jessica mentions that the only reason why she’s even doing this is because she got a call from someone using a voice scrambler who doesn’t want her to look into it, but surely they covered their tracks and won’t want to be found. At which point Malcolm posits the possibility that the guy is actually an amateur, and what if she could track the call back? So Jessica pulls a Jessica and calls the operator, pretending that she received a call from her grandfather who is missing from dementia and gets the number. They find the address the number is connected to, which Malcolm immediately recognizes as a super shady neighborhood that people generally used to get off the grid to use drugs, etc.

Jessica shows up at the building Malcolm helped her identify. Inside, it looks and sounds sketchy as hell -- flickering lights, sounds of people fighting and/or having sex, a real ball. She heads up the stairs to the specific apartment she seems to have identified as the exact location of the call. She bangs on the door, telling him (I assume she thinks it’s James -- the husband -- hiding out in there) that the landlord / someone already told her he’s inside. After getting no response, she does her patented doorknob breaking move (the scene we saw in the first trailer) and goes in. There’s a TV on, but the place is otherwise dim and abandoned. She slowly walks through, peeking into the bedroom and rounding back out to the living area. She spots some boxes, opens one up and inside is either weapons or explosives (I’m leaning toward the latter) -- the camera paused on it for a quick few seconds and I didn’t absorb the writing as thoroughly as I’d like, but it’s obviously something really bad.

Luke Cage:

We start out with the scene of him walking down the jail corridor, while the inmates cheer him on. It’s not super clear in the beginning, but we soon discover that Luke had his charges cleared, thanks to the excellent lawyering provided by one MR. FOGGY NELSON, who is clean shaven and sporting a very short haircut (gotta look the part at those big firms I guess!). Luke asks for Claire, but Foggy tells him only lawyers are allowed. Luke decides it’s time to hop on a bus and get back to New York ASAP. Before he leaves, Foggy gives him his business card and lets him know he can always reach out if he ever needs help starting over. Luke assures him he doesn’t need to start over, just need to move forward. Foggy helpfully lets him know that most people call him Foggy, to which Luke quips: “And you let them?” which earns a great laugh from the room :).

Now you see Luke on his bus ride back to NYC, and this scene is basically just the same scene in the first trailer with him looking out the window and seeing things like Pop’s barbershop as he drives by. He gets off the bus (which is plastered with a New Harlem Renaissance ad, so you can assume Mariah is still going at it) somewhere in Harlem and as the camera pans out, you see Ms. Claire Temple looking like her damn fine self, leaning against the wall, waiting for his return. They end up back at her apartment and immediately rock that cup of coffee, like wow, it was...physical hahaha. Think overturning furniture, going at it all over the place, I’ll admit to being slightly concerned for Claire b/c damn Luke is a strong guy, but she seemed like she was having a good time lol. In the trailer I thought they were leaning against a headboard - nope, it’s a table turned over on its side on the floor, haha. They have a nice chat afterwards, mostly focusing on what Luke might do now that he’s back in New York. He calls Claire out a little bit, saying that he knows she kept some things from him in the letters they exchanged while he was away. She confesses a lot of things happened and are still going on in the city, and she’s concerned about Luke trying to be a hero (cue the dialogue from trailer #1). At this point, there’s a knock on the door, and it’s...Misty! She’s bemused to see Luke at Claire’s place so quickly after being let out, and asks if he can take a walk down the street with her.

They exchange some small talk, apparently Misty has been made head of some sort of city-wide initiative, which is probably how they’ll take her out of Harlem and into some of the other neighborhoods in the Netflix Marvel world. They end up at a burnt out car that’s decorated with flowers, and Misty explains: there’s been a rash of somewhat unexplained deaths that bear striking similarities -- all young men from Harlem, who were recently employed at some sort of mystery job, moved their moms out of Harlem and into nice houses in what I presume is a more gentrified neighborhood of New York, but end up dead under mysterious circumstances. It could be drug running or it could be something more nefarious -- Misty doesn’t know. Luke wants to help, which Misty reacts to with skepticism (she makes a “Really? I’m going to send the guy who just got out of lockup?” kind of joke) but she mentions that this particular memorial is actually for the brother of Candace Miller, who died in LC S1. Apparently she had two brothers, so Misty tasks Luke to track down the last brother, who she last heard wasn’t exactly on the right side of the law, and talk some sense into him before the mother of that family loses her last child.

Luke heads over to the apartment building of the third brother, another interior with flashing lights, except this time with loud music. Luke encounters a group of guys in front of an apartment and asks them where he can find “insert brother’s name here b/c I honestly can’t remember it out” -- they’re about to snap at him for interrupting them and realize it’s Luke Cage, at which points their jaws snap shut and they direct him one floor up. Luke lets himself into the apartment, sees the brother, and walks up to an expensive looking speaker set up to turn down / off the music. The brother angrily exclaims, thinking that his friends are messing with his equipment and is surprised to see it’s Luke. Luke says he’s here to pay his respects, and the two have a conversation in which the brother pretty much stubbornly refuses to listen or provide any information on his brother who just died. Luke notices that for a kid between jobs, he seems to have some pretty nice things (the music / speaker system, spacious apartment, really nice shoe collection) and asks if he might have taken on the same job his brother had before he died. The boy is silent, Luke says something wise, and then leaves.

Matt Murdock:

His scene opens in his apartment, focused on some sort of Braille printer? Matt is practicing an argument for an upcoming case as the pages print off. Suddenly, he catches on the sound of someone getting mugged and you see him going into Daredevil mode and hearing the situation unfold -- Matt is visibly tensing and literally willing his body not to rush off. As he’s listening, he also hears the police approaching and containing the situation. He untenses his body and resumes practicing his speech. At this point, we switch immediately to the courtroom, where Matt is grilling a man on the stand. I couldn’t exactly follow what the incident was and what product the man’s company made, but whatever it was, it was responsible for injuring a young boy, putting him in a wheelchair. Matt is really in his element and manages to pin the executive on the stand into a corner and goes in for the kill. Then we are suddenly outside the courtroom, actually in the same courthouse we were in for the Castle trial, and the news media is there -- Matt won the case and the family of the boy who was injured were awarded $11 mil. The parents of the boy walk ahead to talk to the reporters, while the boy, sitting in the wheelchair, hangs back. Matt has a really lovely scene here when he steps back to talk to the boy, who is clearly having a hard time adjusting to his new circumstances, and gives him a Matt Murdock pep talk about handling adversity and very specifically, coming to terms with a life changing injury (wish I could share more of what he says, but I just can’t remember it and don’t want to butcher it!! It was good though). It does seem to get through to the kid, who then goes back to join his family during their little hallway press conference.

Matt turns around, and we see Karen, who was in the courtroom covering the case for the Bulletin. Karen congratulates Matt on winning the case and is complimentary toward him and what he did in the room. I think Matt also mentions Karen’s work as a journalist and she does her aw shucks Karen thing. She mentions that she needs a quote from him for the story she’s writing, and suggests that maybe they do it over a drink or a bite to eat, which Matt seems surprised at, but agrees to. (This suggests to me that they really haven’t spoken much, since the end of S2 reveal, though they’ve likely crossed paths politely since then.)

Matt and Karen are sitting in a diner, and while the atmosphere is a little awkward, it’s still friendly. They exchange some small talk about their jobs -- Karen asks Matt about his lawyering and I think this is where Matt reveals he’s doing pro bono work, although it’s possible he mentions it at the courthouse, and Karen talks about how she really feels like this is what she’s meant to do. She lowers her voice a bit and asks Matt whether he’s missed being Daredevil. He basically lies and says no. That he doesn’t regret it, but he doesn’t miss it either. Karen seems to be satisfied with that response. She has a whole line about how she really feels like they needed some time to figure themselves out and it sounds like she believes that both her and Matt are in better places now than they were before. She mentions she’s been covering the police beat and she really thinks the police are doing a good job handling the crime, at which Matt cracks a bit of a cynical smile, so maybe he actually did it...he was the hero this city needed and now they don’t need him anymore. But she thinks that right now the city needs more of Matt Murdock, and btw, she still needs that quote, and that’s just about how the scene ends. Very friendly.

EDIT!!! Didn’t realize a huge chunk of Matt’s section was missing from this recap. Damn it Tumblr, you’ve eaten parts of this post like 5 times already. This re-recap will be a bit of a rush job, sorry! Anyway, after the meeting with Karen, Matt goes to find Father Lanthom for confession. He says it’s been three days since his last confession, which suggests to me that he’s been going consistently, and often. He initially brings up the meeting with Karen, and talks about feeling bad about lying to her about not missing being Daredevil. In order to remain transparent, I will say he did use language to refer to Karen as someone he loves, but the impression didn’t come off as romantic, but more out of friendship / deeply caring for her. I really do believe he is sincere in wanting to become friends again. And nothing about the diner meeting or the conversation here feels like it’s moving toward anything more than trust building, which Matt already kind of fails at since he lies to her face there. Anyway, this part of the conversation didn’t last for very long since Lanthom takes the temperature on the situation and immediately gets to the heart of what’s bothering Matt, which I won’t bother recapping b/c you can see it in the scene below:

Danny Rand:

Since Danny was such a big part of the opening scene, he doesn’t get a traditional intro scene like the rest of the defenders in the first act of the episode, so after we’ve touched base with all of the Defenders, we bounce back into his story and find him flying back to New York on his jet with Colleen. It starts with him, alone in the bathroom, and this is where we get that dramatic scene of him wiping the mirror from the trailer. There’s little bit of editing trickery here, as he notices some weird blood splatters on the wall behind him, and he goes from the mirror to tearing off a piece of the wall? Or pushing aside some sort of curtain? And we segue seamlessly into Danny walking into some sort of eerie, abandoned hallway, all torn and tattered. We quickly notice the hallway floor is covered in bloody bodies, bodies of the dead K’un Lun monks. He passes through another doorway and there’s a whole group of them, standing in formation, covered in blood and staring down at him accusingly. He is clearly overwhelmed and confused, and turns around, only to see himself, dressed in robes and looking serious. He says something to real Danny (again, sorry about being spotty on the actually lines), which prompts real Danny to basically breakdown screaming. At this point we hear Colleen in the background, shaking him awake from what’s obviously a nightmare. She tries to get him to talk about the screaming, which he tries to shrug off as turbulence terrors, but she’s not buying it. They talk about the man they hunted down in Cambodia and it’s clear that he’s feeling guilty about his death, and is still feeling guilty about the not being at K’un Lun to protect his city. Colleen insists that it’s not his fault, but Danny remains unconvinced. Danny and Colleen return to the city and are taking a helicopter ride over the city. They’re holding hands. She’s marveling at the view and they’re discussing home -- New York is basically Colleen’s home but for Danny, even though he grew up here, he still doesn’t know if this is his home.

Alexandra:

Our introduction to Sigourney’s antagonist Alexandra lacks any bombast or fanfare, but you definitely feel...unsettled in a lot of her scenes. We first see her in some sort of nondescript building, and she’s waiting for an appointment, looking classy af. A person comes up and leads her to a really bare, empty room, and asks Alexandra to change into a patient’s gown. The nurse brings her out of the room and to a larger room with a CAT scan machine. The doctor greets her warmly but has bad news for her, which she seems to be expecting -- her red? white? blood cell count is precipitously low and her body’s organs are starting to shut down. She asks what the doctor is going to do about it, and he says there isn’t anything they can really do, which is an answer that clearly doesn’t satisfy her (“That’s not what I asked.”). When she asks how long she has, he guesstimates around a few months.

Edit: Embedded the released preview clip that corresponds with the below scene :)

We see Alexandra again in what I assume is Central Park (sorry guys, I don’t know NY!), sitting on a bench and feeding the pigeons. Again, she looks amazing. Madame Gao (woohoo!) comes into frame and says she thought she’d find her here, it’s always been her favorite spot. Alexandra muses about how surprised she is this place hasn’t already been razed to the ground and replaced with high rise buildings, she remembers when it used to be forest. She starts into a mini history lesson about New York City and how the Dutch bought it for 24 dollars -- then she drops a burn -- it was 24 dollars too much. She delivers it with such classy disdain, I love it. There’s also a hint of “Hey I was here when this happened” which tracks nicely with the hints Gao has given about her longevity / immortality...clearly Alexandra has quite a history herself. Anyway, they move onto discussion of more important things, like nefarious evil plans? Madame Gao updates Alexandra about some part of this plan and says in a few months they should be ready to make their move. Alexandra quickly shuts this down, which seems to take Madame Gao by surprise. Instead, Alexandra wants to make her move now, which Gao tries to talk her out of -- she doesn’t think it’s a good idea, they still need more time, etc etc -- but knowing what we know about Alexandra’s updated life expectancy, she obviously can’t afford to wait to make her move. At the very end of this scene, Alexandra quite flippantly tosses her bag of bird seed at Gao and orders her to finish feeding the birds. So there’s a really obvious and interesting power dynamic here...whoever Alexandra is, she’s quite used to calling the shots!

The last scene we have with Alexandra takes place after all of the scenes from the other characters, and on some sort of fancy rooftop -- it’s the one from the trailer, and I think it might be the same one Gao met with Fisk in S1? I’m not 100%. Gao lets her know that things have begun, which seems to please Alexandra greatly. And at this point, we start to see what exactly that plan is.

Closing scene:

It starts out with a rumble, almost like mild earthquake tremors. Matt is back at home after his confession with Lanthom, and his apartment is bathed in red. When the shaking starts, he freezes almost seems like he’s not sure what to do. The shaking intensifies, dust and debris flying off, and he seems actually scared at this point, kind of crouching over and covering his head. Jessica, in the mystery apartment she’s tracked down, is also looking around in a mixture of confusion, fear, and WTF as everything shakes around her. In the streets, you see huge tremors and rows of cars being propelled upwards with some sort of strange force before slamming back into the ground. At the memorial for Candace’s mother, you see her standing outside of the car and looking around in shock as the city shakes around her. A streetlamp breaks and starts to fall, but Luke appears and immediately bears the weight of the falling lamp and pushes it back up and away from her. Danny and Colleen have just gotten off the helicopter, unaware of what’s going on on the ground, but in just a few moments as they walk off the landing pad, the ground cracks beneath them and between them.

As everything crumbles outside, Alexandra calmly turns from the edge of the rooftop and walks over to Elektra in the black cloak, and says that iconic line, “It’s just a city. You’ll get used to watching them fall.”

And basically while the city is falling apart and all of our heroes are like WTF, the episode ends. I know, we were really disappointed lol.

Interesting things of note:

There’s a little scene transition device they employed, at least for the first episode, as you go into a scene for a specific character -- it was sort of a quick-cut style with visual snippets and ambient sounds and slightly colorized for each Defender. I haven’t watched Jessica Jones since it first aired, but it reminded me of that show. Not too surprising because the director for the first 2 episodes of Defenders is the same director who did JJ!

I wrote the heading for this section 2 days ago so while I may have had interesting thoughts then, I certainly don’t now, sorry lol!

#the defenders #marvel's the defenders #the defenders panel #sdcc 2017 #the defenders spoilers #the defenders 1x01 #matt murdock #elektra natchios #jessica jones #luke cage #danny rand #colleen wing #madame gao #my thoughts #text #p talks about stuff #mine

[chrissymcdermott]

If You’re Thinking About Moving to LA...

Consider This Advice From A 1.5 Year In Transplant

A good friend of of mine recently told me they were considering moving from Philadelphia to Los Angeles to pursue their career in the entertainment industry and asked for my advice. A year and a half into living out here, after being asked for my insight, it felt like a good point to take a moment and really evaluate where I was at with everything. With that in mind, I put a bit more effort into crafting a thoughtful and at times brutally honest response.

Below is my advice to that friend considering the big move. You’ll notice a few names are redacted as to protect certain individual’s privacy (and to not shoot myself in the foot professionally.) I hope this will be helpful to a few of you folks out there considering becoming an LA transplant. Especially if you’re coming from another part of the country that feels distinctly different from this mega metropolis.

Hey Friend,

As I was writing this I realized that this is the first time I'm really truthfully reflecting on my experience living here so far. It's hard to do when you feel like you're always in the thick of it. Obviously this is a whole lot to digest but I believe it's all valuable insight. I hope you feel the same way. Take as much or little from it as you like but I do think it's worth reading the whole way through. Take your time but once you're done, let me know what you think. :)

First, I think the most important thing to note is that I don't regret moving out here at all, but it's taken me up until recently to feel that way and you'll see why as you read on. It's absolutely true that if you have greater aspirations than what Philly has (or most other cities have) to offer, coming out to LA is a logical move. That said, an important thing to remember is if and when you do, you're one of tens of thousands of people doing the same thing every year so it's unbelievably competitive and everyone is gunning for the same jobs. Far more than what you'll experience anywhere else, even in New York according to my former New Yorker friends out here.

Moreover, even if you're tremendously talented, your odds for getting noticed let alone hired are much smaller so you have to plan accordingly. Ideally, people move out here with either a solid job or several freelance gigs already lined up. Realistically however, there are always a million variables at play that will determine whether that's actually the case or not. Sustainability is imperative. Everything you do in preparation for when you get here and when you arrive has to be focused on making sure you plan months in advance as much as possible. I have tried to make it so even if I had zero work I could last at least two months while looking for my next gig.

Your Network

It's really great that …………… is helping you connect with people out here but be sure to build your network of people on your own as well. Use resources online to connect with people before coming out here too. Your success in LA is literally and intrinsically based on who you know and you can't count on anyone but yourself to build those relationships. I know it might sound a little silly or exaggerated but it's not - you will make it out here only if you have a strong network of people you can rely on and your professional (and to a big extent personal) survival out here depends on the network you maintain. You can apply to all the jobs you want but talk to anyone out here and they'll tell you 90% of all "industry" jobs filled are through referrals, phone calls, and emails. Most of mine have been so far. - On that point, whatever phone number you're going to use for connecting with people, keep it. It's crazy who ends up with your number sometimes, and if you change it, you risk missing out on potential opportunities.

Money

In addition to building your network out and lining up any and all work, I recommend saving up at least $5k but preferably closer to $10k before you move - and plan on all of that savings being gone within the first year of living here. Also, keep the funds you save for living out here separate from what you budget to actually move across country, that should be it's own separate fund of about $3k if you're driving.

When I moved out I had about $15k saved up. Even with working freelance gigs fairly often for the first year, (at worst I'd go about 2 and a half months without a job,) all of my savings were gone in about 10 months. Granted there are big apartment move in costs, a decent chunk of money just spent on going out to meet people, and a lot of unforeseen expenses (you will guaranteed get lots of tickets in the first few months just getting used to the parking situation out here) but LA is just fucking expensive. I naively brushed that important fact off when we moved out here which was really dumb. Unless you eat fast food all the time just buying lunch is always $12+, $6 drinks are only the shittiest beers, groceries are nearly doubled, and rent is the biggest bitch of an expense. Unless you want to live in a terrible shit hole in a sketchy area, you're going to pay at least a grand a month for a studio apartment even in Hollywood - and no one actually wants to live in Hollywood. I live in a barely acceptable neighborhood in Koreatown in an ok 1 bedroom apartment for $1450 before utilities and other bizarre building charges. Prepare to spend half (or maybe more) of your monthly income just to keep a roof over your head.

The Actual Work

You will be a PA and you will have to be a PA for a while. No matter your experience, skill level, or professional value, if you want credibility and to have any opportunity to work at the level you're actually at, you're going to have to be a PA for a while and it will SUCK. It can honestly be soul crushing work but it's part of what you're signing up for when you move out here and this industry LOVES making people "pay their dues". This is another fact I didn't fully appreciate until trying to find work here.

My first full time gig here was as an Editorial PA on a studio movie. I worked for shit pay under some of the most entitled, privileged, complaining, awful people you can imagine. I know it sounds harsh but they were truly the worst people I've ever met and they were absolutely horrible to me. I busted my ass for 6 months and took a lot of abuse only to be fired because a bitchy 2nd Assistant Editor decided to sabotage me after I happened to see him sleeping in his car during work several times and he didn't want anyone to find out. I've never in my adult life had other adults be so unkind and say such awful things about and to me for literally no reason other than they're miserable bored people who are jaded by everything they're so fortunate to have.

When I was fired my immediate boss said she didn't know if I "just didn't give a shit, was too lazy, or too dumb to be able to do the basic job of a PA." - We both know I'm of course none of those things and she said that even despite me doing the work of the Post Coordinator on top of my own job (we didn't have one so it was a responsibility that I took on voluntarily in hopes of moving up) and the Post Supervisor and I having a great relationship. (Side note, after I was fired, a lot of the other people in the post department reached out to me and said that they were shocked that I was fired me and that I'd be missed. A few of them even wrote references for me so there are some good people too, haha.)

To progress and work out here you have to be convincingly confident and have no ego at the same time always. You must walk around like you're the best fucking thing to grace this planet while still being humble enough to be the person responsible for nothing more than picking up everyone else's trash. One day you'll be on a rad freelance indie gig DP'ing and creating some awesome shit and the next day some middle aged Key PA is going to be screaming in your face for not getting something to someone quick enough. It's a bizarre fine line to walk every day but you make adjustments as you go.

Being intuitive and very observant help a lot in this regard. The best advice I received during this job was from the Post Supervisor. He explained that the reason he moved up and got out of PAing was because a producer noticed him picking up a broom to sweep the set he was working on. He said you should always be the person to jump up and help out with even the smallest task well before you're ever asked. The O.G.s always notice those who take that initiative.

Why It's Actually a Good Thing

Alright, so this is where I've paused to read back what I've wrote so far and I want to switch gears because although it seems otherwise from what I've said, I do advocate moving out here if you feel like it's the right decision for you. As I said at the beginning, I don't regret moving here and I'll tell you why.

In terms of that soul crushing PA job where I spent the 45 minutes driving to work every morning dreading the 12+ hour day ahead of me, I learned more in those 6 months about working for studios and working in LA than I learned about filmmaking and production in my 9 years in Philly. I learned what people are actually capable of being like out here (both bad and good) and also what people are capable of accomplishing if they're able to survive and stick it out during the "struggle years".

That Post Supervisor I mentioned, his name is …………….  and he was one of the producers on …………….. Not only that but he was the guy running the production when they shot the infamous ……………. scene and the …………….! One day he sat with me for 2 hours and told me about all of his crazy stories from the production. Not only was it super cool to hear those stories, but this dude was having a blast hanging out with me and reminiscing about his hay days on …………….. That was fucking rad to say the least. - We're still close by the way, we check in with each other often.

Also, that job made me really realize how strong, determined, and resilient I am. I can take a lot and I'll get through it. Thanks to that job, I know my way around most of LA pretty well and am comfortable driving anywhere. I've also now finally wrapped my head around the concept of it being ok if you don't like people and it's also ok if people don't like you. I think most importantly I learned though that once I experienced it, paid my dues, and I got everything I could out of that job, I know not only what to look out for and avoid, but more importantly that I will NEVER let anybody treat me like that under any circumstances ever again. - I don't think that's something I would have learned had I stayed in Philly.

In regards to your network, equally as important will be your group of friends and I'll of course be one of them. You'll definitely meet a lot of people that you think will be your friends and then they'll disappoint you. You'll also quickly realize that often even the seemingly good folks have alternative motives that you'll have to keep an eye out for. You'll meet some friends and lose them, you'll meet other people you really like but never speak to a second time, and then you'll meet the people that will ultimately become your family out here. They'll be your saving grace, your source of support, and the best distraction you have from all the challenges you'll face everyday. For me, most of them are also transplants from the North East and as I've gotten to know them more, I've realized that our shared values and perspectives allow me to trust them almost empirically. This is partially because if you’re not from LA a lot of the people here, and especially the people that are from here, are weird AF. I honestly think it's because they've lived in paradise so long and haven't had character building experiences like shoveling your car out of 3 feet of snow at 7am before a full day of work in February, haha. BTW, it's 72 today here soooo there's that. :D Anyways, thanks to the friends I've made, I've had incredible, life changing experiences that I'll remember forever. Exploring this amazing state with those people has been an invaluable experience that I'm grateful for everyday.

Money. If you're ok with and willing to be poor and struggle for a while (meaning an indefinite amount of time), you'll be fine. Living here is an endurance test and a war of attrition but you'll eventually be able to get back to a comfortable living. You just have to stick it out for a while. It will brutal sometimes and you'll eat a lot of horrible cheap food but at the end of the day, knowing you can live for two weeks off 20 bucks is something you'll come to be proud of. Poverty almost seems like a right of passage out here in its own respect and it galvanizes you as a person. This brings me to my last point.

LA is fucking wonderful, awful, weird, confusing, infuriating, amazing, encouraging, defeating, and beautiful all at the same time. It's like living in the weirdest dreamlike world that you love and hate emphatically all at the same time. I go back and forth between loving this city and loathing it intensely ten times on an average day. I've been at my very very rock bottom here and my highest high. I've also learned so much that I honestly think it will take me a decade to fully comprehend everything I've exposed to in the last year and a half.

I'm proud to be here and I'm proud that after everything, I'm finally starting to believe I'll be able to survive here... but if I'm being perfectly honest, that still feels like a toss up everyday. Despite that, I'll never be the same person I was before I moved and that's a good thing. At the end of the day, I know now that so long as I can stick it out, stay tough, work harder than I ever fucking have, and endure, I'll be able to accomplish everything I moved out here for and more.

If you're truly willing to sacrifice everything, realistically start all over from scratch, and relentlessly fight for the life you want, then do it. Almost daily I think of the beautiful house, great job, amazing friends, and comfortable life I had in Philly but I know I can never go back to that and I'm ok with it. Life is more exciting out here and if you do it right, it will change you for the better. And again, I'll be here to support you through all of it if you do decide it's the right move for you.

I think that's enough to chew on for now. Because I'm a huge cheese ball, I'll end with this:

Keep me posted and feel free to hit me up with questions or anything else whenever.

#advice #los angeles #entertainment industry #film #filmmaking #filmmaker #latransplant #la #socal #production #film production #production assistant #professional #film industry #move to la

[ayz8yf9q-blog]

Does the cost of insuring a car go down when you turn 18?

Does the cost of insuring a car go down when you turn 18?

is it worth waiting a couple of months to my eighteenth birthday to get cheaper car insurance? thanks guys!

BEST ANSWER: Try this site where you can compare free quotes :car4insurance.xyz

SOURCES:

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