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yellsatyouinrogerwaters · 4 years

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End Of The Night - Rick Wright

A/N: I'm sorry it took so long, I took a little break.

L E N G T H: 1,582 words W A R N I N G: Nothing really. I N S P I R A T I O N: End of the Night - The Doors

Y O U R P O V

The phone rang, causing me to wake from my slumber. I groaned from the sudden noise and lifted myself from my bed, trudging my way to the phone. Pulling the receiver out of its slot, I press the receiver's speaker on my ear.

"Hello..?," I mumbled.

"[y/n]? Did I wake you up? I'm so sorry if I did,"

"Its fine, Rick. No worries."

"Alright. Anyways, would you like to come with the band and me on a trip to the forest for a few days? Possible a week for that matter," he asked with his gentle tone. Tittering, I nodded.

"I'll tag along, I'll bring tons of snacks and essentials," I grinned and let out a little humming laugh.

"Alrighty! We'll all meet at the studio at 3 and head on to the forests."

"Okay, see you soon," I hung up the phone and dashed up the stairs. I opened the handles on my closet doors and walked into it. Digging through sections of the closet, I found a camping backpack that I kept since I was younger just in case I wanted to go camping again, but this time as an adult. Grabbing it, I opened it up and found some memorabilia, then set it down on a shelf across from me.

After an hour, my bag was finally packed with everything I needed. Before walking downstairs with the bag, I grabbed my towel. Once downstairs, I plopped the bag down on one of the cushions of the couch and paced to my bathroom.

After a few minutes, I came out of the shower and changed into comfortable, but casual clothing. As I walked back to the living room again, I dried hair and turned on the T.V. to see if anything was interesting. After a few minutes, I found a Hollywood drama that I couldn't take my eyes off.

T I M E S K I P

R I C K ' S P O V

I arrived quite early at the studio and sat outside on the steps. Taking a deep breath and sigh, I took a book out of a small pile that I packed and slid my finger done the pages, letting the book open up by itself. I began to read and felt the activation of my imagination.

About 30 minutes go by and I was already one third into the book,

"Hey, Rick!" A voice called, I looked up and saw that it was Nick. I placed my bookmark into its new spot in the book and shut the book,

"Hello, Nick."

"What'd you pack for the trip?" Nick asked.

"Not much actually. Just some food, a journal, books, and of course a tent," I elaborated.

It didn't take long until David and Roger arrived. We all stuffed our stuff into the back of the van that's owned by our manager. He would let us borrow it whenever we needed it.

I gazed down at my wrist and saw what time it was, 3:16. I sighed to myself and fiddled with my fingers.

"Rick, is [y/n] coming? We have to get on the road soon before it gets dark," David explained.

"She's running a bit late, I kno-". The sound of panting became audible and nearby, it caught my ear. I faced the opposite way from the band and traipsed my way over to the gate. Peaking my head slightly over the gate, I saw [y/n] running towards the gate. I swung the door open for her to come in. Once she made it in, she gasped for air with her head facing the ground and her hands on her knees; I took out a canteen from my bag and handed it to her.

"[y/n], were you running the entire trip here?" she flung her head back and nodded as she drunk from the canteen. Once finished, she handed it back to me and I rubbed her back as she began to struggled less and less with her breathing.

"Are you okay now?", I asked.

"Yes, thank you for the refreshment," she showed me a grateful smile. Nick clapped his hand, grabbing the attention of all of us, "Alright, now that we're all here, it's time to get on the road, I'll drive this time."

"Let me get your bag, [y/n]" I said and got behind her and, in one fluid motion, slid off her bag and placed it with the other bags.

We all got into the car; Nick in the driver's seat with David seated next to him, Roger having the middle row section to himself, and [y/n] and I in the last row chatting about whatever came to our heads.

Nick started up the engine and got out of the parking lot in a matter of seconds and we were on way to the forest.

T I M E S K I P

Nick parked the van right outside of the campsite and turned off the engine. We all filed out of the car and got our stuff out. Heading off to the entrance station, we all looked at our surroundings and soaked up the beauty of it, but I focused most of my gaze on [y/n]. She turned her head and made slight eye contact with me, causing her to display her pearly whites at me. I smiled back and tucked back a strand of my hair,

"How do you feel about this trip?"

"I'm excited, I finally get to read some books that I haven't been able to read and be outside, which doesn't happen as often as I want it to," she explained. I paid attention to every detail I could, the way she talked, her body language, anything really.

Arriving at the campsite, we set our things down and set up. I opened the bag that carried the tent and let everything spill out. Spreading everything into its layout and grabbing the tiny hammer that came with the tent, I hammered down each peg deep enough for the tent to be held up steadily. Once I was finished, the tent stood up tall.

"Holy crap, Rick. Where did you get that giant tent?"

"My father gave it to me, I never thought I would use it, yet here we are," I let out a chuckle.

"Hmm.." [y/n] said, stepping closer to the tent, "seems like it could fit a whole family." We all laughed, but I developed a faint blush on my cheeks when [y/n] said 'family.'

Y O U R P O V

The sky began to darken as the sun slowly went to sleep. We all gathered in a circle and put a battery-operated lantern in the center, it shone enough to go beyond the circumference of the circle we've made.

"Are we telling horror stories?" Roger chuckled.

"No, we're singing songs and doing "What am I supposed to do, grab two sticks and beat the ground with them?" Nick questioned.

"That doesn't sound bad actually," I laughed and patted Nick on the back.

David picked up his acoustic guitar and began to strum the strings.

"What are we supposed to sing about?" Rick asked.

"Anything," David reassured. Rick cleared his throat and began to sing. It was quite rare for Rick, let alone speak. We were are speechless and wonder-struck. David was slowly strumming slowly but softly, Rick's gentle tone merged perfectly with David's playing.

"If the sun refused to shine"

"I would still be loving you"

"When mountains crumble to the sea"

"There will still be you and me."

We realized that it was Thank You by Led Zeppelin. Once Rick finished, we all clapped immensely, making him feel a bit shy.

After hours of singing, joking, and telling stories, we decided to take a little break and each go to our respected tents. I sat in my tent and read The Shining by Stephen King. Being intrigued by the book, I kept my eyes focused on the pages and blocked out my surroundings until I heard a voice,

"[y/n]," I turned my head to the direction of where the voice was coming from. Slowly getting up, I set my book down on its pages and made my way to the sealing of the tent, unzipping it. Behind the sealing was Rick. He looked a bit worried,

"Oh, hey Rick. What's up?" I asked in a concerned tone.

"May I come in?" I responded with a nod and he walked with caution. We both walked and sat adjacent to each other.

"Alright, Rick, what brings you here today?" I joked, chortling.

"I wanted to open up about something that has been bothering me for a while now," he pinched the bridge of his nose.

"Okay, what is it? I promise I would judge you," I reassured him. He took a deep breath and let out a sigh. He looked at his hands and fidgeted with them as he mustered the confidence to say his confession.

"I.. I think I've fallen for you and when I sang that song... it was for you" I smiled a little and nodded my head at him.

"I've fallen for you too, Rick."

He grinned at me and I hugged him tightly. He wrapped his arms around me and whispered in my ear, "I love you, [y/n]."

Without leaving his embrace, I placed my lips on his and kissed him with all the love I could give.

"I love you too, Rick."

#rick wright #richard wright #pink floyd #rick wright imagine

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ramheavenandhell · 5 years

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Some Things Will Never Change

AN: The wonderful @mrs-sundae drew amazing fanart for "Finding Love on the Citadel" and it inspired me to write this now (-^v^-) It's the one that I'm also using as cover art (thank you for letting me use it!) Really thank you so much, dear <3 Not only for drawing that pic, but also for all the support you always give to me and everyone else in this fandom! Please take this as a little gift in return even if it's not much. Warnings: Rick/Morty smut + sexy lingerie Summary: based on a fanart from @mrs-sundae: Rick V-27 shouldn't really be surprised about anything anymore when coming home to his housewife Morty…but he still does.

Some Things Will Never Change Rick V-27 wasn't thinking much about how his evening would go when he exited the patrol car and bid goodbye to his partner. The police officer expected that it would be just the usual – coming home to his Morty waiting with dinner for him and then some relaxing and cuddling with the boy in front of the TV before they would hop to bed and…have a little more fun. It was almost scary how he had gotten used to this new life after getting together with his grandson. Probably not only that, but life on the Citadel in general. It was just different from his previous life as a scientist, negligent father and asshole-ish grandpa, who tinkered in his daughter's garage and dragged his grandkids on dangerous adventures. If he would be more paranoid, he'd probably suspect that this wasn't real life and he was inside some sort of sitcom – only existing for the entertainment of his audience. He shook his head to get rid of those ridiculous thoughts before he opened the door to his apartment. If his life would be just some sort of TV show, then surely it would have less routine and more exciting things happening other than the occasional gun fight against criminals… Stepping into the kitchen, he prepared himself for the sight of his cute little lover, standing at the stove in his frilly apron and cooking a delicious meal before he would turn around and greet him with a bright smile and a "welcome home, Rick". What greeted him instead was a slightly different sight that made him stop dead in his tracks and heat rush to his cheeks. It was still his little Morty in the kitchen, but instead of standing at the stove, he was on all fours on the floor. His apron was absent – as well as some other clothes – and the brunet wore only cute white stockings with a pink floral pattern and a black garter belt that was adorned with pink ribbons. So, there was nothing that shielded those pale round globes that were facing him and wiggled slightly with each movement as the boy scrubbed the floor. "Wha-what—?" Where and why do they even sell clothes like this on the Citadel?! …even though the answer for the 'why' should be more than obvious… Morty turned around, cheeks flushed in embarrassment, but still smiling. "Oh, welcome home, Rick." "What are you doing? And what's with the outfit?" Rick fought to keep his voice steady, but his face was betraying his current emotions. The teen grinned sheepishly. "I-I've bought something new today and wanted to show you as a surprise after dinner. That's wh-why I've already put in on. But then I accidentally spilled the food all over the floor and on myself when I took the pot from the stove and I had to take my clothes off and clean this up now. I-I'm really sorry, Rick, but I didn't spill everything, so we can still eat dinner." That…actually sounded very much like something that his clumsy little Morty would do. His eyes closed briefly and he inhaled, trying to calm himself down. Sometimes it was hard to tell if the boy was honestly trying or just being accidentally seductive and this was one time where it was actually not on purpose, so he really needed to get it together again. You'd think after all the things he'd done to him, that Rick would have an easier time accomplishing that. Opening his eyes again and looking into the brown irises that stared at him like a puppy that was afraid to be scolded, he sighed. "It's fine. Just stop looking at me like that." Honestly, how could he be angry with him? "Thanks, Rick! I'm done in a minute and then we can eat!" Enthusiastically and without much thought, the boy bent forward again and continued to scrub the floor, his behind wiggling enticingly again and causing another wave of heat to rush to the elder's head…and somewhere else. Figuring that he should probably change out of his uniform in the meantime, he stumbled into the direction of the bedroom, but still entranced, couldn't take his eyes off the boy. "Oh and watch out for the bucket." Morty warned, but heard a splashing sound mid-sentence. He turned around and looked at his grandfather whose foot stood in the aforementioned bucket. Both stared in disbelieve at the now wet appendage for a moment. If this actually was a sitcom, now would be the cue for the audience to laugh. "…I'll just go and take a shower real quick." The elder comment and pulled his soggy foot out of the mopping water again, soap suds still clinging to his soaked pant leg, ignoring the boy's gaze, who was still staring with big eyes at him. 'I better make it a cold one…' He thought as he limped to the bathroom, careful to avoid leaving too many puddles on the way. After cleaning up and changing clothes, the couple was seated at the table and ate. Thankfully, Morty had put some clothes on again, too, so Rick wasn't as distracted by his little lover anymore. "I'm sorry that it's not as much, but there's still dessert, so I guess we'll just have more of that instead." Morty still sounded embarrassed from his mishap when he cleaned the empty plates off the table and went to the fridge to retrieve the sweet treats. Rick's eyes followed him and despite the clothes that the brunet wore, he could still imagine seeing the garter belt underneath it as if he had an x-ray vision. Unwittingly, the thought of Morty as dessert entered his mind and he realized that all hope was lost and his mind was still down the gutter. Still he fought to keep it together and focused on the snacks that the brunet brought to the table. However, his concentration faltered as soon as they were done with dinner and snuggled on the couch. An open bottle of whiskey stood on the table, in close reach and on the screen flickered the Citadel TVs equivalent to America's Got Talent – namely, Citadel's Got Talent. And it was just as bad as the original if not even worse, Rick thought as he absentmindedly watched how a Morty was trying to fart the national anthem while the audience and jury booed and made gagging sounds. His own Morty snuggled closer to him, swinging one leg over his lap as he looked with big eyes up at him. "I'm sorry that I kind of ruined the surprise for you today. B-but if you like…I can show it to you p-properly now…" His cheeks instantly began to light up and Rick suppressed a growl as the now shy boy averted his eyes. It was more than obvious that the last of his self-control was pretty much gone now. And why hold back any longer when Morty was clearly getting into it, too, now? "Show me." He demanded in a low voice that made the teen squirm. Just why did his grandpa always have to sound so sexy when they were doing this? Nonetheless, Morty disentangled himself from the other and stood up to strip off the clothes that he had put on before dinner. He didn't dare to put on a striptease for Rick, but hoped that he was at least able to make it look a little sexy and not completely silly as he took off his shirt and let his pants slide down the soft curves of his body. Unlike before, he had put on a thong (which did not quite match with the rest of the outfit, but that didn't bother the elder in the slightest), but still wore the cute stockings and garter belt. Slowly the teen crawled back onto his grandfather's lap, who couldn't even keep his hands off him for a full second, as he instantly grabbed Morty's hips. Old and worn fingers toyed with the garter belt, running teasingly along the straps – and the warm skin underneath it – moving all over the thighs and the soft material of the stockings before going back up again, to feel around the pink g-string. Morty sighed as he was felt up by the skilled and familiar hands of his grandfather and leaned boldly forward to steal a kiss. This time a growl escaped the old man and he pulled the boy closer by grabbing his ass. While he hungrily kissed the smaller back, his hands massaged the soft round flesh, which in turn made the brunet whimper into his mouth. Patience already no more than a thin thread, Rick didn't feel like wasting much time with foreplay now. The entire evening was already unnecessarily long foreplay to him and he decided that Morty had teased him more than enough. So, he began to fumble with the thong, carefully maneuvering it over the boy's hips until the brunet was forced to break off the kiss and get down from his lap, so he could pull it down all the way. Rick was okay with the rest of the sexy underwear, so it was allowed to stay on, but that one thing was in the way and needed to get off as quick as possible. Fortunately, his grandson didn't complain about his eagerness and followed obediently, stepping out of the pink garment before sitting back on the elder's lap again. Lips met once more and Morty's arms wrapped around the other's neck, his already hard erection pressing against the bulge in Rick's pants, which elicited a muffled moan from the younger. Seemed like Rick wasn't the only one who was quite eager now. Which was really fine. Without breaking the contact between them, the elder fumbled for the lube that he had wisely put in his pants pocket, blindly opening it and covering his fingers in the slick substance. Morty moaned once more as he felt a wet fingertip at his entrance, his muscles relaxing in anticipation almost as if developed through Pavlovian conditioning and he didn't need to wait for long. One long finger slid smoothly into him, all the way up to the hilt with no resistance. The digit withdrew as quickly as it came and returned with a friend, the boy again taking it in stride and with a muffled groan. Rick almost grinned against his lover's lips as he gently fingered and widened him. At least some things will never change… Even though with how often they did this and technically not needing it, the elder inserted a third finger to prepare the smaller one. He growled again as Morty eagerly humped against him, alternating between thrusting against his crotch and back on his fingers. When small hands suddenly pulled down the hem of his pants and vanished inside to stroke his hard member, it was decidedly too much for Rick. In one fluid motion, he stopped the kiss and pulled his fingers from Morty's ass and stood up from the couch, lifting his lover in the same movement. Before the brunet could fully realize what happened, he squeaked in surprise as he was maneuvered back on the couch on his stomach. The other quickly followed and took a seat on the back of his thighs, grinning down at the younger even though Morty couldn't see that. The boy was clearly excited (he actually loved it when they were doing it doggy-style, being reminded of their first time), but also confused and wriggled around a bit. It was impossible for him to get on his hands and knees this way and he whined, not happy with Rick teasing him like this. The elder shifted a little, but his weight still held the boy down. "I know you wanna spread your pretty thighs for me, but just s-stay like this, Morty." Without waiting for a reply, he shifted once more and entered the teen in one single thrust. He groaned loudly and murmured, "Fuck! So tight!" Morty's snug tunnel felt even tighter than usual in this position and he briefly wondered why they hadn't done it like this before. Tossing that thought out of the window because it didn't really matter at the moment, Rick put all his focus on fucking his lover into the couch now. Loud moans and groans filled the room, accompanied by the squeaking of the couch's springs, as the elder set a hard and fast pace. "You always have to do that, don't you Morty?" he growled into his small lover's ear. "Always-always dressing up sexily because you know ec-exactly that it's driving me crazy!" "I wasn't… hngh… wasn't t-trying to-to… ahh… I o-only wanted—Oh RICK!!" What Rick did to him felt so good that he was unable to speak properly. His small fingers dug into the bolster, holding on for dear life even though he would have preferred to hold onto his lover like this, which was of course impossible in their current position. Somehow, it felt like Rick was filling him more than ever as he was fucking him, his balls noisily smacking against his asscheeks with each thrust. His erection was also rubbing against the cushions with every movement, the heated flesh wedged between his stomach and the couch. It was obvious that he wouldn't be able to last very long like this. "Aah… hah… R-Rick…I-nghn-I'm gonna…" He tried to warn the other weakly. "Yeah, me…uhn…me, too, Morty." One hand entangled in brown locks and pushed down on the back of Morty's head, the other was on the brunet's hip, pulling the boy closer as Rick rutted even more frantically into his lover. He could leave the whole slow and gentle stuff for a second round in the bedroom, but now he just wanted to reach that sweet high of gratification. "Y-yes! Ahh-aah!" He wasn't alone on that quest as Morty tried to animate the other to finish both of them off. As much as he loved to be held down and have Rick fuck him as if he was some kind of wild animal, it still wasn't enough and he whined as he helpless squirmed in the other's grip. "Pl-please…nghn…please deeper, R-Rick!" Growling like a beast, long fingers pulled on the brown strands and hips slammed powerfully against the younger. Morty practically screamed as his climax washed over him like a tidal wave. His back arched as much as was possible in his current position and his legs flexed, the heels of both feet pushing against Rick's lower back since this was the only thing that he could do right now. With a loud groan and some last minimal thrusts, Rick followed him, his seed spilling inside the younger's spasming heat. After the pleasurable waves ebbed, the elder sunk down on his lover, careful not to squish him with his entire weight. As they laid there, trying to catch their breath, Morty tried not to think about the mess that he just made on the couch cushions and that he would have to clean up later. The brunet sighed as soft kisses were peppered along the sweaty skin of his back. "So, I guess…you liked the surprise?" He asked for confirmation. "I always like your little surprises, Morty." Rick whispered back. "There's just one thing I'm wondering about…" "Hmm? What is it?" "Where on the Citadel do you always buy those outfits and lingerie?"

AN: Sorry, it's so short, but I hope that it was still okay. And poor Rick hardly does any shopping, so he has no idea what you can even buy on the Citadel…it's about time he starts changing that :D Again, I like to point out that fanart inspires me to write and it makes me so happy and I absolutely love receiving it, so I'll gladly accept more of that <3

Part 4 of Citadel Cops in Love

Part 1 of Citadel Cops in Love: Finding Love on the Citadel

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Part 2 of Citadel Cops in Love: A Morty’s Kinks

oneshot

Part 3 of Citadel Cops in Love: A Rick’s Jealousy and Possessiveness

oneshot

Part 5 of Citadel Cops in Love: An Unlikely Duo

oneshot

Part 6 of Citadel Cops in Love: One Rick’s Happiness is another Rick’s Sadness

oneshot

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porkchop-ao3 · 5 years

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Charlie Foxtrot: Part 7/7

Finale! Hurt/comfort, angst.

Christ it was awkward, standing in Rick's kitchen again with a cup of coffee, just like day one. It'd been a week since Tailor had seen him. Rick had of course been texting, but Tailor hadn't wanted to deal with the whole mess at the time, and so he'd waited. In that time, he'd finished the robe's for the council, and had met up with them for a few drinks here and there. A couple of the council members had taken a shine to Tailor, something that he wasn't at all displeased about. But he knew he couldn't keep putting it off, and he wasn't one for completely ghosting somebody unless the situation was extremely bad, so he finally texted Rick back and agreed to meet him at his apartment.

It was just the two of them, no sign of the roommate, and they hadn't said much outside of meaningless pleasantries since he'd arrived, but Tailor could see that Rick wasn't happy. His usual smile was absent, his voice was monotone, and he stood on the other side of the kitchen with his arms crossed.

With a sigh, Tailor broached the subject. “Did your roommate give you any grief?”

“Not really,” he shrugged, not looking him in the eye.

“I didn't do that on purpose, you know. I-I-I just felt- I was angry and I didn't think before I acted. That was inconsiderate.”

“Yeah, it was.”

Rick finally looked at him, and Tailor suddenly felt this horrible ache in his stomach at his blatant disappointment in him.

“Sometimes my emotions get the better of me–” Tailor rushed to excuse himself, only to be spoken over.

“It's fine. He didn't say much about it. Told me he wouldn't ask and that he never saw nothin’,” Rick shrugged. “Nothings happened since and I don't think it ever will, 'specially if he doesn't see you here again.”

Oh God. Tailor wanted to hurl, only this time it wasn't because Rick was being too affectionate, but because he was cold. This should please him, but it didn't.

“So you're saying I'm not welcome here?”

“I said nothing like that.”

“It certainly sounded that way.”

“Well I guess you need your ears checked,” Rick narrowed his eyes, giving Tailor a dirty look.

Tailor stared for a few long moments, silenced and rendered completely unable to respond. Rick was always so mild mannered and kind and understanding yet he was so sharp with him today. Tailor didn't know what to make of it, but he knew he didn't like it.

“You say that it's fine, but you're clearly unhappy with me,” Tailor finally managed to say, placing his cup of coffee down on the kitchen counter, no longer interested in drinking it.

“I'm not.”

“You must think I'm stupid.”

“I absolutely do not,” Rick hissed, his brow coming down into an arched V as if Tailor had said something extremely offensive. “You're far from stupid, Tailor. I wouldn't dream of suggesting anything like that.”

“Alright. You don't think I'm stupid. But you are definitely angry with me, you've never acted like this before. I'd rather you just be honest with me.”

“I'm not angry with you, I'm just waiting for you to rip the damn band aid off, but you're taking your sweet time,” Rick told him with a heavy sigh, tilting his head back and leaning it against the fridge behind him. “Ain't no point to me being a kiss ass if you're just gonna tell me it's time to move on.”

“You think I'm here to put a stop to this?” Tailor asked. He had no idea where the incredulous tone was coming from, because this was exactly what he was doing.

“Am I wrong?” Rick asked in a dry tone.

Tailor neither confirmed nor denied it.

“It's probably for the best anyway, right?” Rick admitted, his voice dropping quieter. “You ain't interested in sticking around with a guy like me, sharing a shit hole apartment with some other guy.”

“I'm sorry?”

“You just wanted to get laid, right? You don't want nothin’ else. I'm wasting my time sitting around expecting a call from you asking to do something other than get you off. And that's fine, I ain't judging. I just don't wanna be a part of it anymore.”

“Hold on. No–”

“I know that I'm a rarity. A Rick who actually wants something that means something! You probably ain't used to this so I'll make your life easier and leave you be. It's been fun while it lasted, though. Thanks.”

“What're you saying? You can't be serious, you're not–”

Rick suddenly raised his voice. “Are you arguin’ ‘cause you're disagreeing, or because this ain't going how you planned?”

Tailor jumped at the sudden shift. He didn't have time to respond before Rick kept going.

“‘Cause I know your type. You're only happy when things are going your way, when you're the one calling the shots. I might be saying all the right damn things and you'll argue, ‘cause it ain't you saying 'em. I ain't got time for time wasters, if you ain't prepared to consider what I want out of this relationship, I'm out.”

Tailor was stunned by the outburst but absorbed every word. He hated how accurate he was, he never considered how transparent he might be, nor how observant Rick was. He swallowed the excess saliva that had formed in his mouth and looked down at the floor, frowning. When he spoke, his voice was small.

“You're right. I don't want anything other than sex,” Tailor simply said, his face burning and his throat feeling weird, eyes stinging. It took him a moment to realise it was emotion and not a nasty allergic reaction to something he'd consumed. “And I did come over here to end things with you.”

“Well there you go. No need to argue, it's all done and dusted.”

Tailor stayed where he was, scowling down at the floor like it was his worst enemy. He felt such a tumultuous mix of emotions in his gut. He was angry, he was sad, he was relieved, regretful, grateful, confused. He hated himself, mostly. He wasn't entirely sure why; but it definitely had to do with having himself so annoyingly, accurately summed up by some guy he only thought of as a fun lay.

He could deal with all that, though. It was the strong urge to cry that was causing him the most problems. He wasn't the one who was meant to be in tears, he wasn't supposed to feel so terrible, he wasn't the one who should've been dumped. None of this was right, none of it at all. Anger built and he let out an audible growl, snapping his head up and jabbing a finger in Rick's direction.

“You have no idea why I am the way that I am. I for one cannot believe how selfish and ignorant you have been throughout this entire ordeal, expecting me to be more than I can be! You ask too much! You're so needy, always texting and wanting to touch me and be near me, it's been suffocating!” Tailor exploded, yelling louder than Rick ever had.

Rick straightened up, pushing away from the fridge, his eyes widening a little in surprise.

“I'll be glad to finally be free from it! I never gave you the impression I wanted more, you just took everything I gave you and- and- I gave you and inch and you took a mile! And then you have the cheek to make all these bloody assumptions about me, and you're dumping me?” Tailor finished with a humourless laugh, though it was more like a jerky exhale that he had to try very hard not to allow it to turn into a sob.

“Nobody's dumping anybody, I was under the impression this was a mutual thing, I–”

“Shut your stupid mouth!” Tailor shouted, stomping a foot on the ground, the slightly raised heel of his loafers clacking against the kitchen tile. He hadn't intended to look like a petulant child, but he had.

“I've had about enough of this, if you're not gonna act like an adult I want you out.”

“Don't worry. I'm leaving of my own accord.”

“Calm your Goddamn ass down, you ain't finished your coffee.”

“I don't give a bloody shit about my coffee! If it weren't for that stuff I wouldn't be in this mess in the first place.”

“What mess? It's over! If you're that bothered you can tell everyone you dumped me, I don't care. I was hoping we could do this amicably.”

“I just- I-I-I just–” Tailor stammered, feeling everything rushing at him at once.

He felt so embarrassed, so foolish, why on earth had he blown up like that? He was better than that, or at least he should've been. He'd reacted appallingly and now that he was giving himself space to breathe, he wished he could rewind time.

“Come here.”

“What?” Tailor's voice sounded weird, he tried to clear his throat but it didn't help the obnoxious feeling of being on the edge of tears.

“Git your ass over here,” Rick's voice was sharper and despite himself, Tailor did as he was told.

Rick was a little rough with him as he pulled Tailor into his arms, rougher than he was before. Tailor wasn't strong enough to break away so he stayed still against his chest, his arms hanging down at his sides as he felt a hand patting and scrubbing between his shoulder blades. He assumed it was meant to be soothing. It wasn't a hug that was in anyway romantic or affectionate, it was a hug that said everything's okay in the most basic way possible. Tailor didn't particularly like hugs when he was fully clothed, but he didn't fight it. Despite his best efforts to keep them at bay, a number of stubborn tears rolled onto his cheeks and he allowed Rick's wife beater to soak them up, hoping he wouldn't notice.

“Now, I'm gonna let all that slide, ‘cause I know you didn't mean any of it,” Rick said quietly, and Tailor squirmed in his arms.

“You don't know anything.”

“Relax. Nobody's here to see this.”

“You are.”

“And? It's not like I matter all that much,” Rick chuckled. Tailor didn't respond, he just sighed and snorted up the snot in his nose without grace. “Listen Tailor, I know when I see someone who's hurting. I've known since I slipped up and told you I loved you, and you nearly tossed your cookies.”

“That was because m-my assistant brought some of her cooking into work that day and made me eat some,” Tailor lied.

“No it wasn't,” Rick deadpanned in response.

There as a stretch of silence. Rick wasn't letting go, and Tailor wasn't making any attempts at getting away from him.

“My wife was a bitch,” Tailor murmured.

“I thought as much,” Rick sighed, giving another vigorous rub to Tailor's back before gently prying him off of him.

Tailor turned his head, avoiding looking at him. He knew his eyes would be bloodshot to hell and his face would be blotchy.

“I should be the one comforting you, you're probably heartbroken,” Tailor quipped grumpily.

Rick made a passive humming sound in response.

“I knew what was coming, I prepared myself,” he said, startling Tailor into looking at him.

He hadn't expected to be taken seriously. Rick looked at him with a certain look in his eye, it was soft and warm with just a little bit of detectable sadness. In a way, Tailor was grateful for that, because it reminded him of the reason he went there in the first place with a sudden wave of nausea.

Tailor took in a sharp, cooling breath and turned away from him.

“Well, I suppose I'd better leave you be. I'm sure you have things to do,” he said, pulling out his portal gun and twisting the dial for his home dimension.

“Jus’ wait a sec,” Rick said, grabbing hold of Tailor’s arm, getting a glare tossed his way for his efforts. “Are you gonna disappear off the face of the earth ‘cause of this, or am I gonna get to see you again?”

“You think that’s a good idea?” Tailor questioned, raising a brow and gently removing his arm from Rick’s hand.

“Shit, I don’t know. It’d be a shame if I never got to at least talk to you after all this. Believe it or not, I enjoy your company. And not just the physical aspects of it.”

Tailor jerked a little in surprise, both brows shooting upwards. He didn't often hear things like that from the people he slept with.

“Well, we’ll see. I have your number, you have mine. There’s no harm in the occasional text message, I suppose,” Tailor allowed, shrugging his shoulders stiffly. Rick nodded and gave him a small smile, which Tailor awkwardly returned.

Wasting no more time, Tailor opened up a portal and with a final nod in Rick’s direction, he left. Alone in the comfort of his studio, he felt different. He wasn’t as angry or sad as he’d felt when in Rick’s kitchen, but he certainly wasn’t happy. There was a certain hollowness in his belly, one that he’d gotten used to for a while in his past, it was like an old friend coming to visit. He sighed and plopped down in one of the nearby chairs and cradled his head in his hands for a while. His sketchbook lay open on the table in front of him, showing him his own illustrations of a shirt with intricate tribal patterns embroidered into the back. He groaned quietly to himself; that was going to be a struggle to make in more ways than one, but there was no denying it’d look incredible. He couldn't call off the whole project due to his break-up… though, it was hardly a break-up; they weren’t ever dating in the first place.

Tailor heard someone coming through the front door. There were only a couple of people who had a key so he had a good idea of who it was; he took a breath and sat up, grabbing his sketchbook and flicking to a blank page so he could pretend to be working. His assistant walked in a few moments later, she was holding a carrier bag from the supermarket and a cup from the local coffee shop.

“Hey Tailor. I'm glad you're here, I brought you your coffee and–” she started and Tailor sighed loudly, cutting her off.

“I didn't say I needed you today,” he snapped, giving her pause. She looked at him for a few moments.

“Have you been crying?” She asked, a frown colouring her face with concern.

“Of course not, don't be ridiculous,” he grumbled, looking down at his sketchbook to hide his bloodshot eyes.

“I guess you spoke to Rick today,” she said softly, cautiously. “How did he take it?”

“If I wanted to speak to you about it, I would've brought it up. Will you get your nose out of my business?” Tailor spat through a clenched jaw, not looking up at her.

“Of course. I apologise,” she said timidly, placing the coffee cup down next to Tailor on the table. “I brought cake again, if you'd like some with your coffee?”

“Are you trying to fatten me up? I don't want your bloody cake, stop trying to interfere. I don't need you here today, go away and spend the day with your little boyfriend.”

Tailor felt a calmness with the resulting silence from his harsh words. He'd done that.

“I wanted to make sure you were okay,” she said after a while. Tailor's eyes closed and he felt a lump in his throat. He hated when people were nice to him like this, it loosened his control on his emotions.

“I'm a grown man, darling. I don't need babysitting,” he managed to say with a level voice.

“I know that,” she replied in understanding. He heard the rustling of the plastic bag as she placed it down on the table next to him. “I'll leave you to it, then.”

“Thank you,” Tailor's tone was exasperated and short. His assistant left without another word, just a gentle touch to his shoulder.

When he heard the door close, Tailor sighed and leaned forwards, resting his forehead on his sketchbook with a groan. Why was he the one being coddled? Everyone knew it was his idea to break things off, he was fine! Rick was the one with inappropriate feelings, he was probably crying into his pillow at that very moment. Tailor was fine, he was just annoyed that things hadn't gone how he'd planned and he'd gotten confused, he'd made a fool of himself, he'd had a stressful few weeks and a lot of things had gotten on top of him. He'd simply been overwhelmed.

How embarrassing.

His phone buzzed inside his pocket and his heart dropped to his stomach. He lifted his head, retrieving his phone and taking a cautious look at the message. It was from that Hairstylist Rick, thank God. He was alone and he was bored and he was wondering if Tailor wanted to take advantage of that. He wasn't exactly in the mood for sex, but it would be a distraction, at least. He could just lay down and let him do the work, and it would surely take his mind off of things for a little while.

Tailor replied promptly, then left his coffee to go cold in the studio.

Fin!

#rick and morty #rick sanchez #fanfiction #rickcest #seal team rick #tailor rick #oc rick #hairstylist rick #council of ricks

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spine-buster · 6 years

Text

I Thought You Might Be Mine (Ricochet) - Part V

January 16, 2018 Orlando, Florida

Iris was conveniently left out of the loop. She had no idea what was going on. No idea what was happening. She thought, at first, that it was fake news. That he would have told her beforehand. That he would have mentioned something so she didn’t have to find out through the internet through a headline.

Trevor “Ricochet” Mann Joins WWE Performance Centre.

On the outside, she maintained her cool. There was a lot of buzz and energy around the Performance Centre because Candice LeRae and War Machine had also signed. But on the inside? Iris was freaking out. Freaking. Out.

She had texted him at least twenty times since the press release had gone out, each message getting progressively more vulgar since he wasn’t answering her.

Is this real? Are you for real right now? You signed and you didn’t tell me? Okay, so you definitely signed. Why wasn’t I informed?! Are you going to be here today? It says you are but are they just saying that? Trevor you better start answering me. BITCH!!!! Candice is here too!!!! WHO CARES ABOUT YOU?! TREVOR MANN YOU BETTER ANSWER ME RIGHT NOW you sumbich ANSWER. ME. BITCH. RICK O’SHEA I’M GOING TO PUNCH YOU WHEN I SEE YOU WHY AREN’T YOU ANSWERING ME!!!!!!!!!!!! IF YOU WALK IN THOSE DOORS WITHOUT TEXTING ME FIRST I’M GONNA SKIN YOU ALIVE WITH A POTATO PEELER I’M GONNA CUT U UP SO BAD U GON WISH I NO CUT U UP SO BAD ok I see how it is

She could barely concentrate on her work. The thought of him being in the same building without her knowing occupied most of her thoughts. She wondered if he would ask to see her, or if that would be seen as unprofessional on either of their parts. People knew that they were best friends, though – so it couldn’t be deemed unprofessional. Right?

She spent her time pacing in her office and obsessively refreshing Twitter on her phone to see if there was any more news to do with his signing or his showing up at the Performance Centre since he wasn’t answering her in any capacity. She was trying to see if he had been spotted at the airport or something. Maybe one of the novice recruits had tweeted something out. God, she felt like such a stalker.

Just as she was about to open another search tab, a loud knock came at her door. “Miss Capshaw, are you in there?” she heard William Regal on the other end. “I need to speak to you for a moment.”

“Come on in, Mr. Regal,” she called out, switching her screen to a lesson instead of Twitter. She even went so far as to pretend to ‘look busy’, a move she learned from George Costanza, and shuffled some papers on her desk.

The door opened slowly, and William Regal stood in a suit in the doorway. “You have a visitor, Miss Capshaw, whom I believe you know very well,” he said, a small smirk on his face.

When Trevor appeared beside him, already decked out in a WWE shirt and shorts, Iris jumped up from out of her seat. She tried to remain as calm as possible, but her sudden movement made both Trevor and William chuckle. “Trevor!” she smiled from ear to ear.

“Is the potato peeler you’re gonna skin me alive with in your desk or what?” he asked.

The rhetorical question garnered a chuckle out of Regal. “I’ll let you two catch up and I’ll be back in five minutes. I think someone has some explaining to do,” he nodded his head towards Trevor before leaving the room, closing the door half way.

When he was gone, Iris ran to Trevor and jumped into his arms. He wrapped his arms around her and buried his face into the crook of her neck, letting her scent intoxicate him. It had been so long. So long. “Hey, baby,” he whispered.

“Is this a dream?”

Trevor chuckled. “I told you I’d follow you wherever you go. Just took me a bit longer.”

Had he ever lied to her? He even kept his promises he’d said in the heat of the moment. “You actually signed here. Why didn’t you tell me?”

He set her down but kept his arms wrapped around her. If it were up to him, he’d be touching her all day. “I have to keep some things as a surprise. Makes life interesting.”

Oh, did it ever. They were finally living in the same city. The possibilities now were endless. She wouldn’t be constantly asking him where he was in the world so she could work out the time difference. She’d know where he would be. And she’d probably be with him. At least when he was in Orlando. “Do you have an apartment yet? A hotel? Where are you staying?” Iris asked.

Trevor couldn’t help but laugh. She sounded exactly as she did four years ago when they first met each other in Japan. “Where have I heard that before?” he winked. “I’m closing on a place in about a week.”

She gulped. He was really here. He was staying. She brought her hands up to cup his face. “I can’t believe this, Trev.”

“I know. It’s nuts.”

“You should come over tonight,” she blurted out. Now that she knew he was here, and here for good, she wanted to spend as much time with him as possible. “We can order in, catch up, all that good stuff.”

“I’m never gonna say no to that.”

When Trevor knocked on Iris’s apartment door with two bags full of sushi, he was already thinking about what they could do together next. He’d already managed to drive his everyday car and was using it to get around, but he still had his retro Mustang to drive to Orlando from Paducah. He wondered if she’d be able to get two days off to fly out to Paducah with him and drive it down together. That time together, alone, would be a luxury he’d pay a million dollars for.

When Iris opened the door, she was on the phone. She greeted him by giving him a hug and let him in her apartment, but she made no attempt to end the conversation. She was speaking Spanish, and she spoke it with such life and passion that all Trevor could do was stand in her kitchen dumbfounded, listening to her talk. He’d heard her speak her vast array of languages before – English, French, Spanish, German, Arabic, Persian, Cantonese, and Japanese – and every time it was music to his ears. She could speak Klingon and make it sound good.

By the time she hung up, Trevor had already laid out the sushi, gotten plates and cups, and was sitting down at her coffee table, flipping through the channels on the TV to see if there was anything good on to be playing in the background. Judging by the fact that she was speaking Spanish, he knew she was more than likely on the phone with her mom, who was originally from Cuba.

“Sorry about that,” she said as she approached the coffee table, taking a seat directly beside him instead of across from him. “You know my mom. When she gets going she really gets going.”

“It’s all good,” Trevor said. “For someone who hasn’t been home for more than two weeks in five years, you’re allowed to talk to your mom all damn day. You could have kicked me out and I would have understood.”

“Who would eat all this sushi though?”

Trevor gave her a look. “Don’t think I can’t eat all this by myself. You remember that Korean barbecue restaurant.”

Iris snorted. “They almost kicked you out cause you wouldn’t stop eating.”

“Exactly. So all this sushi is nothing to me.”

She nudged him with her elbow before grabbing a pair of chopsticks and breaking them apart. Trevor watched as she took the entire tray of red dragon rolls and unloaded seven out of the eight pieces onto her plate. He gave her major side-eye. “What?” she asked.

“Am I gonna starve?”

“Bitch shut the fuck up!” she screamed, causing Trevor to throw his head back and cackle. “I will fucking end you. You don’t even like red dragon rolls!”

“Whatever, girl. Just eat your food.”

Iris rolled her eyes. She was so fucking happy. So fucking happy. Sushi was in front of her and Trevor was beside her. What more could she want? What more could she need? “So anyways, when’s Tessa coming in to celebrate with you?” she asked.

Trevor shook his head. “She’s not. We broke up.”

Iris didn’t even bat an eyelash at the statement. She stuffed her face with a piece of sushi. “When are you guys getting back together?” she asked, knowing their routine. It was all too familiar.

“No no,” Trevor shook his head. “There’s no getting back together. We broke up for good this time.”

That made Iris pay more attention. “What happened?”

“She thought it was selfish of me to sign with WWE because she wants to sign with Impact. It made me realize she’s that person who thinks that another person following his or her own dreams instead of her’s are selfish. And I absolutely cannot be with a person like that.”

Wow. So this was it – this was the end of Tessa and Trevor. She couldn’t believe they had finally, finally called it quits. Despite their breakups in the past, it always felt inevitable that they would get back together – they always managed to work it out. But something in Trevor’s tone told her he was done – there would be no turning back from this decision. He’d made the decision to sign with the WWE and move down to Orlando for himself and himself only – to follow his dream, and nobody else’s.

“I’m really sorry, Trev,” Iris said, setting her chopsticks down.

“You don’t have to be sorry. It was a long time coming.”

“You invested two and a half years into that relationship. She’s met Cameron,” Iris said. “I know this is probably better for the both of you in the long run but you’re still allowed to feel sad about it.”

“That’s the thing though…I don’t feel sad,” Trevor revealed. “I don’t exactly feel liberated, or happy, but I’m not sad about it. We were going down two different paths. She couldn’t acknowledge why mine was important to me. She couldn’t acknowledge that I wanted to live my dream. That’s it.”

Iris didn’t know what to say. On one hand, it was a long time coming, like Trevor said earlier. On the other hand, breakups were never nice. She’d met Tessa a handful of times over the years, however briefly, and she seemed like a nice enough girl – whether or not Tessa was putting on airs and graces, Iris would never know. She would never know what Tessa was like in private with Trevor. And she would never find out.

“So have you and Ryder set a date for the wedding yet?” Trevor asked suddenly. “It’s been like, what? Almost a year since you two have gotten engaged?”

Iris tried to look anywhere besides at him. “Uh, no.”

This was going to be an interesting conversation. “Why the hell not?”

“He um…he’s working really hard and it’s leading to another promotion soon, and he wants to get that promotion before we get married.”

‘This dude loves work more than he loves you’ Trevor thought. He wanted to scream it into her face. He wanted to scream it from the rooftops. He wanted to call Ryder and scream it into the phone. He wanted to rent one of those planes that fly a message from the tail and have it circle her apartment for an entire month. Why couldn’t she see it? Why wouldn’t Ryder just break up with her? He was chasing promotion after promotion.

“We have decided to do it in Manhattan, though,” Iris revealed. “At least that’s been decided.”

“Well that’s a step,” Trevor tried to say diplomatically, but Iris could hear the sarcasm in his voice. Now they’d have to wait another two years to get any venue in Manhattan.

“Can we…can we not talk about it,” Iris mumbled, fiddling with her chopsticks.

“Why not?”

“Because I know you don’t like him. And I know you wished you had met me eight or nine months earlier than you did so that I wouldn’t have met him,” she said. “But we’re best friends instead. And I love it that way. I love that we’re so close and we can talk to each other about anything and it’s never weird. I only want to talk about happy things tonight because tonight is cause for celebration – nothing else.”

‘We were lovers once, too’ Trevor wanted to say. He was still unable to get that night out of his mind, almost a year later. We were lovers once, and it was beautiful. And I would do it again in a second. Instead, he found himself nodding his head. “We good, baby,” he agreed with her. “Shoulda told me it was a celebration cause I would have bought some Dom.”

“Joke’s on you because I have Knots donuts on the counter.”

Trevor watched as Iris loaded the dishwasher of their plates used at dinner. With sushi and donuts sitting in his stomach, he was ready to plop down on the couch and not move for a solid three hours, or at least until everything digested. He and Iris had taken their sweet time with eating, catching up on every aspect of their lives and work. He showed her how his house was just a short drive from the Performance Centre, and therefore just a short drive from her apartment, too. Then he thought about how much time could be spent together due to the simple fact they lived less than fifteen minutes away from each other, and he got even more excited.

“Why do you keep looking at me like that?” Iris asked as he was lost in thought. “Are you in a food coma or what?”

“I’m just thinking about all the fun we’re gonna have in Orlando,” Trevor smiled.

Iris smiled too, loading the last dish before closing the dishwasher and jumping up to sit on the counter. “We’re gonna have such a great time. It’s no Tokyo, but it’ll do.”

Trevor walked over to her slowly, keeping his eyes on her as he stood in front of her, between her legs. He brought his arms up and around her waist, inching closer to her. She brought her hands up and rested them around his neck. Trevor looked up at her, taking in the sight of being so close to her. “It’s taking every ounce of self restraint in me not to kiss you right now,” Trevor said.

“Good. Because you can’t.”

“I know that,” Trevor digressed. “Ain’t exactly happy about it, but I know.” They didn’t break eye contact, even for a second. “We can still cuddle though. We always cuddle and watch Brooklyn Nine-Nine. That’s our thing.”

They had a lot of things, that was for sure. Tokyo. Sushi. Brownies. Donuts from Knots Bakery. Cuddling and Brooklyn Nine-Nine. “Let’s go,” she found herself saying, and she couldn’t conceal the smile that appeared on her face when she saw the smile on Trevor’s.

He picked her up from the counter and she wrapped her legs around him as he carried her towards the couch. He saw down first, with her on top of him, and she rearranged herself so that her legs were in his lap and she could lay her head on his chest. Trevor’s arm was wrapped around her, his hand already finding her exposed skin from where her shirt had ridden up, while the other rested in between her thighs. She thought back to the last time they were in this position and the…actions they had gotten up to. Iris knew that Trevor would never expect it to happen again, but she did wonder what was going through his mind as they cuddled so close to one another. She could never tire of cuddling with him, but he always managed to find a way to make the opportunities more touchy and intimate.

When the cold open of season two of Brooklyn Nine-Nine began to play, she focused her attention on the TV. Joke after joke, laugh after laugh, they stayed wrapped up in each other. Trevor would joke that she was exactly like Boyle, her favourite character, which caused her to laugh even more. Throughout the night, his hands wandered slowly, his left finally settling into playing with her hair while he placed light kisses on the crown of her head and forehead.

Iris never asked him to stop.

When it was almost one in the morning, the sun having gone down hours ago, the giggling and laughing becoming fewer and farther in between due to the fatigue from the day, Trevor’s hands were still playing with her hair, his lips still firmly planted on her forehead.

“Iris?” he whispered, making sure she was still awake.

“Mhm?” she mumbled back to him faintly.

“I don’t care where we are in the world. Tokyo, Orlando…I don’t care if we’re in the Sahara Desert or in the middle of fucking Kazakhstan. Wherever I am with you is where I’m supposed to be, and I know I’m gonna be having the time of my life.”

Iris smiled, biting her lip nervously. For the first time that night, she moved so she could look directly at him. “I feel the same about you, you know. Whenever I’m with you I’m having the time of my life.”

When Trevor smiled, she smiled back at him and went back to resting her head on his chest. She could feel his lips kissing her forehead before he whispered, in a soft, faint whisper, “I love you baby.”

She didn’t freeze. She didn’t gasp. She didn’t overthink. What she said next was pure instinct. An automatic reaction. Something she knew.

“I love you too.”

@wrestlewriting @wrasslin-x @thegenericluchadora @thewriterformerlytaggedas@fan-fiction-galore @anerdysouthernbelle @spot-of-bother @amaranthine-reign@baleesi @flnnbalor @smuppies @sarahmatthews7 @daintymissdevitt@newjapan @corey-renee @running-ropes @balorsomega @karleedaniels27@kazuchika @ileana0300 @alexahood21 @ohcristimhookedonhavocimsodunne@fembxt @heelturn-timesten @kaitlynwwefan @50shadesofadamcolebaybay@50shadesofkennyomega @chasingeverybreakingwave @thyestean-feast @thecandicej @devittsbalor @sp00kylesley @danahart @sietefinns@kaydee-kayyyy @powerbombshell @swedish-strong-style @blondekel77@irish-newzealand-idian-dutch @nickysmum1909 @houndofjustice-imagines @wwesmutdonedirtcheap @wweximaginesxd @indywrestlinglover-life @mandi512 @kakakatey @ourscratcheddreams @sleeplessandcynical @badame124 @thevixeniris @fabulousrockstar @lunatic-sambrose @caramara3 @crossfitjesusinskinnyjeans

#wwe #ricochet #ricochet fic #ricochet imagine #wwe imagine #ricochet fan fic #ricochet fan fiction #ricochet fanfic #ricochet fanfiction #wwe fic #wwe fan fic #wwe fan fiction #wwe fanfic #wwe fanfiction #itymbm series

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b-afterhours · 6 years

Text

To Know Him (part eight)

summary: AU set in the summer of 1959 Gloria is desperate to see a world beyond the church and the small Texan town she grew up in. One day she runs into a bad boy with striking green eyes in the local greaser gang the Saint’s of Duke Street. She had only heard of their existence and shenanigans but upon meeting Bill she can tell he’s not as bad as everyone had warned…

warnings: cursing, domestic abuse

if you’re seeing this for the first time you can read part one here and if you need to catch up on previous chapters go here.

Bill sat at the soda bar, looking around the small General Store with appreciation. It had become a sanctuary for him and Gloria. And there was Harvey the only true adult in town that let them be and never questioned their relationship. Bill didn’t know too much about him other than that the General Store was his wife’s Eileen’s dream. He opened it with her and for her and maintained it even when she passed a near decade ago. Suddenly, Bill felt bad for taking collections from his business upon remembering that. Being a Saint could be pretty scummy sometimes, he couldn’t deny that.

“Uh hey Harvey,” Bill sat up on the bar stool.

“Need anything,” he paused from wiping down the soft serve machine.

“No, not until Gloria gets here… I just wanted to say thanks.”

“Thanks?” He tilted his head, looking a bit perplexed.

“Yeah, I’m leaving town in a few days, um, with Gloria. So I just wanted to say thank you for giving us a place to be...”

“Oh, well uh no problem?” He chuckled.

“I’m mean it’s just hard to be together in this town cause of who her dad is and who I am...”

“I understand. I’m not too fond of that guy either,” he said leaning on the bar across from him. “He’s always dragging on his tab here. But anyway, I left you two alone ‘cause my ol’ girl Eileen’s father didn’t like me so much,” he shrugged with a slight smirk on his face.

“Really,” Bill laughed.

“Yeah, I was a coal miners son and she was the daughter of the man who owned the mine. He wasn’t so keen on her taking a shine on me. But I took care of her, we moved here and I lived the best years of my life before her lungs gave out.”

“W-What was it? Sorry, shouldn’t ask.” Bill bit his lip.

“Oh, it’s been years. It was black lung. Doc’ said it might have been from growing up around the mines, who knows...” He took a deep breath. “Well, where are you and Gloria headed then?”

“Austin, she’s going to college,” he smiled. “I’m going to look for a mechanic job there. Luckily, Ace has some friends at a shop that can get me on.”

“Sounds like a good plan,” Harvey nodded approvingly. “Just take care of her, it makes everything worth it. And life a lot easier.” …

On her last Monday in town, Gloria was back to work in the church. She planned to book it out of town by Thursday so that she could become somewhat acquainted with Austin before her college orientation. She had barely left the General Store after having lunch with Bill and she could tell that something was pressing him. His knee kept nervously bouncing and knocking into hers on accident and he’d fiercely apologized every time. He was certainly acting different but she chalked it up to the fact that it may be because this was their last week together.

She was locked out of her fathers' office since she’d been back. So she was stuck with the meaningless task of straightening out hymn books on the back of the church pews and lightly dusting with a damp rag. She could hear voices from inside her fathers' office but she couldn’t distinctly make anything out. She was never the nosy type anyway and really didn’t care to know about her father’s work affairs. Her complete indifference faded once she saw Rick step out and she froze for a moment. He politely tipped his hat to her before turning on his nice dress shoes with a knowing grin on his face as he left. She felt sick, she was sure she was busted. Pastor Castillo soon emerged, she glanced at him while pretending to be busy with dusting. She expected him to be angry, surely Marty’s father had come to tell her father all about seeing her and Bill strolling in the night together but he smiled at her appreciatively.

“Ready to go home, Glo’,” he asked just like he did every evening.

The drive home was stuffy and uncomfortable. She could feel that he knew something but he hadn’t said anything indicating so. In fact, he hadn’t spoken a single word until they turned the corner to Lyndon Street where she lived.

“I’ll be taking you to Mrs. Robins later this evening,” he said to her holding open the front door open when they got home.

“Okay, daddy,” she simply nodded but she could feel the hairs on the back of her neck stand on end. …

When she rode with her dad that evening, the air around them in the car hadn’t changed. Her father didn’t speak a lot in general so she figured she was just paranoid. He’d have done something or said something to her by now if Marty’s dad truly ratted her out. Still, she couldn’t shake the look her mother had given her on her way out the door. She looked concerned almost fearful, her lips were slightly moving as if she were muttering a prayer under her breath.

“W-will you be picking me up too, daddy?” Gloria asked she was tired of the silence surrounding them.

“It’s going to rain. What kind of father would I be if I had you walk all the way home… Why?” He gave her a shifty glance.

“Just wondering...”

“Odd thing to wonder, hm.”

When he dropped her off she was glad to be away from him. The car ride was claustrophobic. He remained parked by the curb for awhile even after Mrs. Robins had left. She took care of the girls as she normally would while peeping out the blinds every now and again. He had finally left while she was making dinner but she still occasionally checked the empty curb space. When she looked nothing was out of the usual except for the rain clouds billowing into town.

When she got Katie and Greta to bed she cleaned the kitchen almost spotless due to her anxiousness. Her flight sense was kicked in since she saw Rick at church. She thought about calling Bill to tell him not to show up, that it was too risky. But it would be of no use, he was most likely on his way already. …

Bill and V were out late picking up collections that same evening. He kept an eye on the clock tower knowing he needed to head over to Mrs. Robins by now. Besides he was tired of his litter brother teasing him for not proposing to Gloria during lunch like he told the rest of the Saint’s he would. His nerves were beginning to get the better of him.

“Hey, I need to go,” Bill said flicking his cigarette in the street.

“We still have the General Store?”

“No. We’re not collecting for Harvey anymore,” he said lifting a leg over his bike.

“What? Did Ace tell you something I don’t know?”

“No, I said so.” V scoffed at his order. Bill didn’t have the authority to make such rules in the first place. “I’m serious. Leave the man alone, even after I leave. And you can tell Ace that too.”

“I’m not telling him shit! When I’m short next month I’m blaming you.”

“I’ll send his share through the post then,” he said kicking his bike stand back and taking off.

When he arrived at Mrs. Robins street he hopped off his bike and pushed it the rest of the way worried about the noise. He gently set it to the side of the porch where Gloria’s bike was usually set but it wasn’t there tonight. He had barely knocked on the door when it swung open and Gloria grabbed the lapel of his leather jacket pulling him inside.

“Did anyone see you come here?” She said peeping out the blinds.

“No?” His brows pulled together. “Something wrong?”

Gloria shook her head. “No… I-I’m just losing it. Maybe...”

“Well you and me both,” he lightly laughed.

“What do you mean?” She said taking his hand and guiding him over to the couch.

“Oh… uh, I’ve been thinking about some things,” he bit his lip. He could feel his heart beating against his chest. “But uh first, did you call admissions and stuff?” He asked feeling silly for buying time but he had to settle his nerves somehow.

“Yeah, I have everything in order. Are you still driving me to the bus station in Waco?”

“About that, I was thinking, maybe, I could just take you all the way to Austin? And we can stay in a small motel until we find a house?”

Gloria’s face scrunched in a puzzled expression. “A house? What are you talking about?” She giggled still confused.

“I would like to go with you to Austin.”

Gloria’s eyes lit up, her jaw slightly dropped. “You’re really going to come with me?”

Bill nodded. “Only if you want me too.”

“Of course!” She threw her arms around him. “Oh, this is the best news I’ve heard all day,” she mumbled against his chest. “I was so worried about being on my own.”

“But uh I also wanted to ask you something else...” he paused. Gloria pulled away wondering what else on earth he could ask her. “I know Mrs. Robins isn’t the best place to ask but I really can’t wait any longer...” he dug into his inner jacket pocket and fished for the ring under his pack of smokes. “I really love you, Gloria. So don’t think I’m crazy for asking.”

“Crazy?” She laughed but it cut short when she saw the sparkling ruby on the ring Bill was holding up. She stared at it wide glassy eyes. She looked between it and Bill, his brows furrowed and the lines in his young face looked more defined than usual.

“W-Will you marry me, Gloria Esperanza Castillo? If shit goes to shit at least we’ll have each other, married, husband and wife?”

Gloria sat there stunned, her mouth open but words were difficult to choke out. “I uh… really?”

“I’m more serious than a heart attack right now,” his said, his eyes begging her to say yes already.

“That’s, quite the proposal-” she was interrupted by a hard knock on the front door. Alarmed, Gloria jumped up. “Come, hide behind the door,” she pulled him to his feet and had him stand to the side of the door where it could shield him. When she answered Marty was panting out of breath as if she ran a mile. Bill was in his own world staring at the ring still in his hand, Gloria hadn’t even said yes and he wasn’t sure if she was even going to.

“Gloria! You need to go home!” Marty barged in.

“Shhh. The girls are sleeping,” she said not catching on to the urgency she was still slightly in shock over Bill’s proposal.

“I’ll take care of them you need to go.”

Bill stepped out from behind the door, “What the hell is going on Marty?”

“Damn Bear, all these frights tonight are going to kill me!”

“Marty, what is going on?” Gloria asked as panic finally set in.

“I overheard my dad talking to your dad on the phone so I picked up the line in the kitchen to eavesdrop. Your dad was askin’ him if he was positive about seeing you and Bear a couple of days ago and all that. Made Greg drive me by your place and we could hear your parents arguing and all sorts of noise,” Marty paused to take a deep breath after regurgitation all that she knew. “You have to go now! Greg is outside in his truck, he’ll take you. I’m so sorry Gloria, my dad can be a real asshole.”

“You’re saying!” Bill said angrily, running a hand through his hair.

“C’mon Gloria,” Marty said pulling her out the house and into the drizzle that had started to lightly fall. “I’ll stay and take care of the Robins girls.”

Gloria turned her head as she was being shoved out, “Billie?”

“Duke Street! I’ll be home waiting up,” he told hollered to her. “It’s going to be okay.” At least he hoped so.

“Marty, stop. Wait,” she pushed her hands off and sprinted back up the porch crashing into Bill. “Yes!” She tugged on his jacket and on her tip toes kissed him. “If shit goes to shit right?” She whispered against his lips. “Hold on to the ring. I’ll see you soon!” She said sprinting off to Greg’s truck.

“Yes? Ring?” Marty tilted her head, suspiciously.

Bill shook his head, he was happy as hell but with everything else going on he needed to stay focused. He got on his bike and loudly revved it up.

“I’m marrying that girl, Marty,” he yelled over her engine.

Marty laughed. “You two better start running for the hills!” …

Gloria closed her eyes, bracing herself before stepping into her home. Along with the thunder and trickling rain, she could hear yelling and hysterics from her mother from the other side of the door. There was no more hiding, no more lies to tell. She took a deep breath and turned the doorknob slowly. Her mother was crying and yelling at her father who looked at her with his face twisted in anger. Her bike which she kept hidden was inside by the door and the things in her small tote were thrown about. The radio smashed by the fireplace, her dresses and bible were haphazardly dumped on the couch. Gloria slammed the door behind her announcing her presence, they were so busy yelling they hadn’t even noticed her.

“Gloria,” her mother gasped. “Honey,” she wiped her cheeks dry, “go to your room please,” she pointed towards the hall.

“Why are all my things out here?” She questioned.

“Excuse me?” Her father said. “I should ask you where the rest of your things that are from your room are?”

“Robert stop,” her mother put her hands on his chest to calm him but he swiped them away.

“I asked you a question, Gloria? And what are these things, huh?” He picked up the smashed radio and slammed it on the floor again causing the dial to shoot off across the floor. “And this bike? Who fixed this?”

“Robert, please. Gloria just got to your room,” her mother pleaded.

“Gloria answer me! Who fixed this bike!?”

Gloria froze. She wanted to scream, she didn’t have anything particular to say, she just wanted to yell but she couldn’t, she suddenly felt too small. Too many years of obedience and fear kept her from defending herself.

“So you’re not going to talk?” He threw his arms out angrily. “Was it that Saint boy? Bear or whatever? Are you talking to him? He fixed this didn’t he?”

“Oh for god's sake leave her be,” her mother said taking Gloria’s hand to take her to her room.

“Estella don’t you dare. She needs to answer me,” he grabbed his wife by the arm and pulled her away from their daughter. “She’s up to something.”

Gloria snapped her head back at him, “And so what if I am?! I don’t need to answer your questions, you seem to know everything since you went through my things!”

Her father’s eyes fluttered appalled at his daughters' tone towards him. “Th-that boy has gotten into your head! You’re not even yourself!” Spittle spewed as he shouted. “And where is your stuff? Are you planning to leave us? Your mother and father? You’re our only little girl.”

“I’m not your little girl. I’ve been more myself than I’ve ever been,” Gloria said smoothly, her voice unwavering.

“Gloria,” her mother cried, cowering by the fireplace now.

Her father chuckled darkly. “If you think you are leaving this house, ever again you are sorely mistaken. You will not see that Saint boy again, you hear me?”

“I beg to differ,” she said through her teeth as she seethed. She could only see her father in through the glare of tears that built out of anger.

“You will NOT see that boy again or so help me!” He said backing her against the corner of the room. “You are staying here and that’s it!”

“I’m leaving, I’m going to college. And I’m not sorry about it,” she stood her ground.

“After I’ve told you no? What has the devil done to you?”

“Devil? It’s you! If you would have let me be myself I wouldn’t have to go lying and sneaking around! I can’t even breathe wrong in this house without feeling like I’ve done something wrong! Can’t you see that it’s you!?”

“How dare you?” He was floored.

“Robert, stop this!” Estella yelled, finally gaining confidence. “Tell her… tell her why you won’t let her go to school...”

“Estella, stay out of this,” he turned his head towards her.

“Tell her what you did with all of our money! Her college fund, our mortgage! Tell her you gambled it all. She deserves the truth before you go making everything worse.”

“Gambling?” Gloria whispered looking up at her father, shame and embarrassment shadowing his face. “The barbershop,” she shook her head.

“Gloria…” he choked. “This-”

She pushed her way out of the corner he backed her into and rushed to the couch for her tote. Shoving her bible and clothes back in. “If you had bothered to open my acceptance letter, you’d have seen I have a full ride,” she said as tears spilled from her eyes. “But you wouldn’t have cared about that either. I don’t need your money, you don’t have any to begin with.”

Robert stomped towards Gloria violently pulling her arm and spinning her around to face him. His other hand was open, Gloria shut her eyes tight bracing for the blow of his slap but it never came. She cracked open her eyes and saw that her mother quickly twisted his arm back. Before he could push her mother to the ground she hit him in the temple with a half-empty bottle of gin. The women of the house both screamed when he hit the wood floor, knocked out cold.

“Get your things, Gloria. Hurry,” Estella said out of breath.

Gloria had no time to process what had just transpired in the shuffle. She picked up the ruined radio on the way to her bike and dropped her tote in the basket Bill at welded to the front of it and swung the door open. She turned her head back to the mess, her home, her mother taking a sip of the gin she just hit her husband in the head with.

“Mama?” Gloria cried.

“Gloria, just go. Go to him.”

And so Gloria ran with her bike to the sidewalk before hopping on. And she pedaled hard, the rain now pelting down, as she rode her bike to Duke Street.

PART NINE

tags: @imaginingyournotsolikelyfuture @bskarsgardfilth @billieskars@skrsgards @kikilikes @mixtapes-books@partypoison00 @fine-i-suppose@shannonxbarnes @darthdeziewok @kyralangdon @sexual-rendezvous @trybeingabitch @bill-skarsgard-writings @reinamysterio@mazarinqueen @fine-i-suppose@therealzoeyael @darthdeziewok @skarswhat @pennytdc@bskarsgardlove92 @frappylou @mixtapes-books @spacemerlady@stardustginger @lilzbean

(please let me know whether you’d like to be added/removed from tags)

#bill skarsgard #to know him #my bill writings

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jessicaj27-blog · 5 years

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Trolling ‘The Walking Dead’ Cast

Even though The Walking Dead is a show about surviving the zombie apocalypse, during season 7 in 2017, some cast members were fighting off trolls online. But who had to battle those nasty trolls? Keep reading and find out who fought them off.

According to the Cambridge Dictionary, a troll on the computer is “someone who leaves an intentionally annoying message on the internet, in order to get attention or cause trouble”, trolling can include cyberbullying, fat shaming or mean and hurtful comments directed to people online.

During season 7 of The Walking Dead, two of the regular cast members were trolled by people and fans online.

The actress Alanna Masterson, who plays Tara Chambler, received body shaming comments from Instagram Trolls. Alanna’s weight gain was from the fact that she was pregnant and breastfeeding in real life while filming episodes during the season. The mother received hurtful comments on her body by trolls.

(Image source: Alanna Masterson)

In true Tara fighting style, Alanna fought back online while posting a photo of her daughter to Instagram with this strong message.

Alanna Masterson wasn’t the only victim of trolling during season 7, actor Josh McDermitt, who plays character Eugene Porter received death threats online. Season 7 saw the character Eugene be recruited by Negan and his gang as a prisoner at the Sanctuary. Eugene appeared to change his allegiance from Rick’s group (“the good guys”), to Negan’s (“the bad guys”) during this season. Fans did not react well to Eugene ‘joining the dark side’, and took to social media to express their hatred for the character.

(Image Source: characters Eugene (left) talking to Negan (right))

Some of the nicer-hate comments include “@JoshMcDermitt I hate you more than I hate Joffery from game of thrones- @LiannaHanke April 3, 2017” on twitter.

Other fans were quick to defend the actor saying that “People are literally sending death threats to @JoshMcDermitt for what Eugene did… do they not know that Eugene is a cHARACTER IN A SHOW???- @clarity_paris April 5, 2017”, and “@JoshMcDermitt please respect this man… josh sorry for the stupid people The walking dead is a movie not reality- @ULobuono1 May 1, 2017”.

As a response to death threats, Josh shut off all of his social media.

However, of the night of the season 7 finale, Josh posted this live Facebook video, reposted on Twitter by fan @neganwtf.

(Image source: Josh McDermitt quits social media)

In the video, Josh fights back against the trolls, calling them out for sending death threats to the actor on social media. He said

“Don’t send me death threats, because I will report all that shit to the cops… I’m just sick of it… You can hate Eugene, I don’t care. You can think whatever you want. But when you start saying you hope I die, I don’t know if you’re talking about Josh or Eugene”, Josh also finished off by saying “just don’t be an asshole” to the trolls.

The fact that some trolling fans were unable to distinguish the fictious character Eugene Porter from actor Josh McDermitt is interesting. During a TEDx Talk about “Identity in a digital world”, presented by Alec Couros, Alec references a paper by Jason Ohler, where he states that “Should we teach our children as though they have two lives, or one?” online. The idea of digital citizenship, “is the ability to participate in society online (Mossberger, Tolbert & McNeal 2008, pp. 1), trolling is a form of this. Even though these hateful comments are not happening in real life, or face to face, these are comment are seen, and do hurt people’s feelings. The idea of having whether people should have two personalities, one for real and one for online use, really shows a difference in behaviour and how people react in different situations.

(Image Source: Josh McDermitt (Left) and Alana Masterson (right) on set of TWD)

Trolls online have so much power, because they think there is not consequences, they are seeking a response from the person or people they are trolling. The way that Alanna Masterson and Josh McDermittt diffused their trolling situations publicly, for which Alanna defended herself from body shamers as a proud mother, and of Josh bringing the attention of depicting characters from reality and fiction. Both Alanna and Josh made the point of respecting people online, despite the shape of their body, or how their character is scripted to act; the act of trolling is unnecessary and hurtful.

As Josh McDermitt said it best, “just don’t be an asshole”.

References:

Cambridge Dictionary 2019, Meaning of Troll in English, Cambridge Dictionary, viewed 19 April 2019, < https://dictionary.cambridge.org/dictionary/english/troll>.

Davis, B 2017, The Walking Dead Star Quits Social Media Following Harassment And Death Threats, comicbook, viewed 18 April 2019, < https://comicbook.com/thewalkingdead/2017/05/02/the-walking-dead-josh-mcdermitt-quits-social-media-/#5>.

Houghton, R 2017, The Walking Dead’s Eugene speaks out after quitting social media: ‘The internet is a dark and negative place’, Digital Spy, viewed 18 April 2019, < https://www.digitalspy.com/tv/ustv/a830601/the-walking-dead-eugene-speaks-out-after-quitting-social-media/>.

Mossberger, K, Tolbert, C & McNeal, R 2008, Digital citizenship : the internet, society, and participation,Cambridge, Mass. : MIT Press, ProQuest Ebook Central

TEDx Talks 2015, Identify in a digital world | Alec Couros | TEDxLangleyED, 17 March 2015, viewed 19 April 2019, < https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=pAlIBTgYfDo>.

#twd #The Walking Dead #alanna masterson #joshmcdermitt #tara chalmber #eugene porter #troll #trolling

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god-hunter · 7 years

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Secret Empire #2

This was a loaded one. And the ending confused me...

But for an event, I do like the fact that so many things are packed in. It does make it hard for a comprehensive review, but like last time, I’ll try to do so as best I can.

There are so many directions occurring in this dense issue, that I couldn’t just outright say whether it’s good or bad, but basically this whole thing is an aftermath of the ending of Issue 1. That is to say, if bombs were to be dropped from the last issue, this one takes us to after the smoke clears. ...if that helps...

Also, there wasn’t nearly enough Defenders in this issue. Still though, I’m happy they’re included at all.

[Spoilers below. The only way to understand what happened, really]

Like I briefly said, this issue begins ‘after the bombs dropped’ from the end of issue 1. You may recall Helicarriers hovering over cities after the death of a certain, Rick Jones.

Well this one insinuates that bombs dropped and people died. It starts in Las Vegas with Wonder Man, Hawkeye, Hulk and Nadia Pym digging for survivors through wreckage, etc. etc. Black Widow is there too, brooding about how Steve Rogers needs to die.

Then we get a glimpse of what’s going on in New York. It’s no good. There are aliens everywhere in the darkness, who do a bit of a number on Luke Cage and Danny Rand. The only way we see what’s happening in the darkness was through the clever use of a night vision cam, or what-have-you.

Jessica Jones ended up coming to their rescue, and we find that Dagger has been basically, using ALL her power in order to light the city for hours and hours at a time. It’s gotten to the point where she can only keep the light going for 4 hours a day. Then for the remainder of the time, the city is in darkness, and I guess these aliens have their free reign, without many heroes left to stop them.

Let’s not forget normal every-day looters, who are just trying to survive. I can’t blame ‘em. King Pin of all people says that he’ll save them. And when he does, he wants the whole World to remember that he was the one who made things right. “...On the day when we see the sun again, you remember-- It was Wilson Fisk who kept you safe.” [Ooh. Pretty interesting thread for the Defenders to go on.]

Meanwhile at ‘The Mount’, which is I guess what they’re calling the Underground HQ, Spencer made an interesting choice in copying or rather, nodding to Hickman’s style of narration.

“It was the day two of us stood, and two paths were laid out. A familiar story, but somehow different this time. One was Light. And the other was Darkness.”

[This was a strange, slightly forced nod to Hickman’s Avengers, back when they symbolized Captain America to ‘Life’ and Iron Man to ‘Death’. This time the comparison was set that Tony A.I was ‘Light’ and Black Widow is ‘Darkness’ now. Choosing A.I Tony for Light is a very interesting choice for a lot of reasons. But the main one I want to go with for now is that he literally is made of light. The idea that an A.I representation of Tony is the ‘Hope’ of the group, however... implies that he only has pure motivations. Which, I’m sorry, but even the biggest Stark apologists know he’s got his hang ups. Particularly that thing about how this A.I feels that Humans are obsolete. But I’m pretty sure Spencer is ignoring that one completely.]

Um. Without diverting any further, basically a line is drawn in the sand about the direction which the Underground should take. Black Widow wants to kill him, and Tony wants... volunteers for a different sort of mission. Not killing though.

He puts on a video of Rick Jones speaking to the group, and it’s nice to see him again. We get the whole “If you’re getting this message, let’s be honest--there’s a good chance I’ve been made dead,” trope. But then he tells them exactly what happened to Captain America.

We get some decent insight from everything that went down since Pleasant Hill - [what I know] and Spencer’s run of Captain America: Steve Rogers - [stuff I don’t know.]

He informs the gang via dead video message that Kobik was manipulated by Red Skull while in Pleasant Hill. That she truly thought Hydra was a good thing, and so she was the one who changed Steve’s entire disposition, memories/history, etc. when granting him Youth again.

“She completely rewrote reality--his life experiences, his beliefs--Everything right down to the DNA. She made him their perfect soldier.”

From there he laid out his own plan. “A plan that included capturing Kobik--and killing his best friend, Bucky...” [Damn, he’s dead again? Fuck.]

He apparently destroyed Kobik too. She’s been shattered into a million little fragments. And the basic idea now is that if they find the fragments to put the cube back together [not her, but the cube..] then maybe they can all salvage this and write the whole thing off as a horrible nightmare.

“...They’re out there somewhere. I’ve attached everything I’ve got--all the Hydra files on the Cosmic Cube... all their intel.”

So, now it’s down to a hunt for the fragments and A.I Tony is all in. But Black Widow doesn’t buy it at all. For her, This is Reality. There is no rewriting it. And they need to kill Steve for his Treason.

She believes this to such a degree that she slugs Clint in their downtime, in only the most Romanov way. She shares a sweet kiss with him and agrees to do things his way, only to turn on him and punch him while his guard is down.

[This punch didn’t mean Civil War III or anything. It was just a way for her to get out of there and do what she needed to do. But it’s still fucked up.]

Clint comes to pretty soon and informs Tony A.I about this, who seems to already have a plan. Hercules, Quicksilver, Ant-Man and Mockingbird are all going to help him look for the fragments.

“Good team, right?” Tony asks. “It’s a start.” Clint says.

In Black Widow’s corner, Spider-man somehow tracks her down in Colorado a day later. And he tells her that he wants to help her kill Cap.

We get an awesome reference to Civil War II. Now suddenly that Future Vision makes perfect sense to Miles. And he actually wants to do this.

[And suddenly there entirety of Civil War II is all the better for me. I only liked half of that event, before it became so Miles v Cap focussed. But NOW.. hoohoo. Damn. That’s good planning Marvel.]

Miles didn’t come alone. Hulk, Nadia, Riri, Viv and whoever is manning the Falcon suit came too.

Despite saying ‘no killing though’, Black Widow is happy to train these children in her ‘Red Room’.

Nearly at the end of the issue, in Montana, Clint, Tony’s A.I (who can apparently wear clothes, like a Red Hoodie now... - [Come on Man!] They end up finding Sam Wilson, who seemed to have hung up the Cap Costume since all of this until now.

Then the very end of this issue confused me.

We see a bloke girl in a white dress running away from Hydra people. Particularly a dude in a snake costume. And she gets beat down on until a random Old guy gives the snake leader a big boot to the head. He knocks out the other guys with ease too.

Narrations insinuated throughout this entire issue that there was no hope to be found. Until this one moment, right when things seemed at their worst.

“W-who are you?! What do you want?!” she asks, frightened.

An older, white-haired bearded dude in Army fatigues tells her, “My name is Steve Rogers. I’m just trying to get home.”

-To Be Continued!-

...I give up. Not on the event, but on trying to understand it.

I don’t know what is going on here, and I’m not going to conjure up any theories. The reveal might be stupid, or it might be genius. But I’m just gonna wait and reserve judgement until then.

Ugh!!

This event is half entertaining, and part frustrating! I’m not sure what else.

...by the looks of it, Secret Empire #3 will focus on our teams in Space, which I’m actually interested in following up on for once.

We’re also at the point where allll the tie-ins are going to splinter out from this Event, causing this thing to go on foooreeever long this Summer.

I am not interested in Secret Empire: Uprising, which involves Black Widow training the Champions to do her bidding...

In fact, the only tie-in I am interested in is the Doctor Strange one. [Which is a funny story for it’s own reason. I’ll get into it when I actually review the issue.]

Anyway, I feel like it’ll be a moment before we get to Secret Empire #3.

So until then. I guess we’ll just have to sit on this.

For now though, it’s still more entertaining than frustrating for me, I think.

#Secret Empire #Issue 2 #Marvel Event #Summer 2017

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