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panicatthediaz · 3 years

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40 (almost kiss) + 54 (secret relationship)? 🥰

Being in bed at 12:00 am will not stop me, I guess. Bonus Getting Together, I guess. Spent 3 or so hours at this. Ops.

Post S4. This is a disgusting amount of fluff. Unbeta'd (but self proof-read) as I wrote this from 12 am to 3:30 am.

On AO3

Years In The Making

Not that he believed it, but he was sure most people around him would say it was meant to be; something fated somewhere to happen somehow. Eddie didn't really believe that.

What he did believe was that they may have been too afraid (or maybe too repressed, in his case) to see what was going on, what had been growing for a long while. Years, maybe?

But getting shot (again) had given him a good shake, and he could say he'd been almost disappointed to see Ana by his bedside. No fault of her own, of course not, but...

He was pretty sure of what he wanted at that moment.

Breaking things off with her hadn't been that difficult, or painful, a couple of weeks after his return home. Ana's disappointment was clear, but she seemed to know as well as he did that they weren't going anywhere as a couple. With a promise to stay in touch, she walked out of his home one last time.

Now all he had to do was talk to Buck.

Buck had been cagey for the first few days when Eddie had asked him about Taylor. It took about a week and a couple of beers for him to blurt out, "She kissed me then ran out." He fidgeted for a couple of minutes. "Then she came back and we talked through it."

Eddie's heart sank, but he still put on a smile for the sake of his friend (if that was all that he would be for Buck, he'd make do). "And?"

"And we are at very different stages when it comes to romance." Buck shrugged, but the tiny frown was right there between his brows. "She became a good friend, but damn, we wouldn't have lasted as a couple."

Buck finished his beer and turned to Eddie, though not looking beyond the water bottle he was holding in his one good hand.

"She, uh... She isn't quite who I want." Buck cleared his throat, abruptly standing up and walking away from the dining table to place his empty bottle in the recyclable bin. "How is Ana, by the way?"

Eddie accepted the deflection well enough, watching as Buck stood by the doorway with his arms crossed, a stance that tried to project calm. Eddie doubted he was anywhere near it; he never enjoyed talking about failed relationships (including those that never took off).

"We broke up last week," he replied easily, standing up to refill his bottle in the kitchen. "Don't worry," he added, seeing the wide-eyed surprise (and dare he say, hope?) in Buck's expression. "It was pretty amicable and even. We both saw we weren't going to get anywhere and decided to split."

"Okay," Buck whispered, following him into the kitchen. "You okay?"

Eddie nodded, smiling. "Yeah, I'm fine." Though he had to ask... "Who is it?" Buck's confused, scrunched-up expression was pretty damn cute, making him look a little bit more like the Golden Retriever pup Hen and Chimney often compared him to. "You said Taylor isn't who you want, so who is it?"

"Eddie," he said on a groan, though he simply leaned against the counter instead of answering.

"See," Eddie spoke with a new bout of confidence (maybe just as ill-placed as the excitement he was starting to feel), standing against the sink across from Buck. "I'm kind of hoping for a specific answer here."

Buck didn't reply. Eddie had barely even noticed a shift in Buck's expression before he moved into his space, pressing a hard kiss against his lips, a huge contrast to how softly his hands cradled his head and how careful he was to not press against the sling and his injured shoulder.

Eddie wasn't sure if the bottle ended up on the sink or on the floor by their feet. What mattered was that he managed to get his hand on Buck's neck, drawing him even closer.

(Not that Buck let either of them press too close, and god, he loved him.

And he was distantly aware that he should be at least a little freaked out over the thought after one kiss - their first kiss - but, well... Years in the making and all that.)

One kiss became two, became many, and Eddie could see the same feelings reflected in Buck's blue eyes. Belonging, a finally and a home.

There was no need to go beyond kissing and cuddling, both of them content to sit even closer together, hands intertwined whenever they could.

It was... Soft in a way Eddie hadn't had in so long, intimate in ways he thought he wouldn't experience.

And they weren't subtle, weren't actively trying to keep anything a secret. Eddie was still off work, doing his PT as he should and Buck had been staying at his house (their home, he couldn't help but think every time) since Eddie got out of the hospital anyway.

But two months passed and the only two people aware of the change in their relationship were Christopher and Carla because they found them cuddled up on the couch, Eddie knocked out by painkillers and then too out of it to deny anything when his son questioned him about it.

(Christopher had simply nodded with a mumbled "Good" and left it at that. They still had no idea what that was about.)

The sling had come off a few days ago, though he still couldn't do that much, and it was driving Eddie up a wall. Buck was at the station, and he didn't want to think about the conniption he'd have if he drove there.

He knocked on Christopher's bedroom door, opening it slowly to see his son smiling at him from where he sat with his book.

"Hey, buddy." It was impossible not to smile back, feeling the all-encompassing warmth at the fact that he was still here, could see his son growing up for a while longer. "What do you say we pay a visit to the station?"

The frown he got for that was so much like Shannon's that he didn't know what to do with the pang in his chest. There was no guilt, not then, over the fact he missed her. He just did, she should be able to see how much their kid was growing, how much like her he could be sometimes. And maybe she was, if the afterlife turned out to be a thing after all.

"You are not supposed to drive."

And that tone was way too much like Buck's, just this morning, for Eddie to hold back his laughter.

"I was thinking we could take an Uber." He shrugged with his left shoulder. He might have been desperate to get out of the house, but he wasn't stupid; he didn't want pain and he didn't want to end up lectured by the entire team once he got there. "What do you say?"

Christopher considered it for a moment, then placed his bookmark and got up. "Let's go!"

"You better not have come in your car, Eddie!"

He rolled his eyes at the very much expected exclamation as Christopher giggled beside him.

"Don't worry, Buck," the kid said, walking ahead as Buck came downstairs. "I didn't let him drive."

"Thank God for you, kid," Buck said, kneeling on one knee to give Chris a hug. "Your dad is stubborn, he probably would have driven here if it weren't for you."

"Hey!" There was no real annoyance in his protest, but Eddie still said, "I get enough sass from my kid, don't you start, too."

Buck, in such a show of maturity, stuck out his tongue at him before turning to Christopher once again.

"Come on, buddy, let's go see the fun people."

Chris' laughter echoed in the station, and Eddie let the light atmosphere carry him upstairs to the loft where he was greeted by the rest of the team with hugs, and some friendly pats on (thankfully) his uninjured shoulder.

Chimney and Hen immediately walked with Christopher to the pinball machine, and Bobby had given him a plate of leftover breakfast to carry wherever he ended up sitting.

He chose the couch, where Buck had already made himself comfortable again and was currently watching the trio at the machine. They could hear Hen encouraging Chris to beat Chim's high score.

"Hey you," Buck greeted softly, an arm going around his shoulders as Eddie adjusted himself.

"Hey yourself." Buck glanced at the other side of the loft, then pressed a quick peck to his lips. Apparently, everyone was sufficiently distracted. "How are you?"

"So far so good." He took one of the biscuits from Eddie's plate, quickly popping it into his mouth as if Eddie hadn't sat here to share them. "I'd ask how your day is going, but it's obvious you're bored out of your mind."

Eddie groaned, letting his head fall back against Buck's arm. He was beyond bored, at this point, and no amount of movies or video games had helped. Buck's chuckle beside him was another pretty good incentive to get out of the house.

He turned his head to face him, his own expression undoubtedly soft as he took in the man that had been by his side for so long and for so many things already.

Buck's expression softened even more, somehow, his smile bright as the sun and even warmer. He leaned closer and-

And what sounded like a very undignified squeak interrupted their almost-kiss, causing Eddie to huff in mild annoyance and turn around.

Chimney stood by the dining table, gaping at them. Bobby was still in the kitchen and turned to look at them at the sound of Chimney's squeak.

"What's wrong, Chim?" Hen asked, frowning all the way from the pinball machine (where Christopher continued to play).

"They..." He gestured between the two of them. "Since when are you two together?!" He ignored Hen's own surprised exclamation. "They were about to kiss!"

"Yeah," Eddie confirmed, nonchalantly making himself comfortable in Buck's arms in the new position so he could look at the rest of their team. "And you had to ruin the mood."

Buck hid his face in his hair, and Eddie could hear the quiet snickering. They really thought the others would have caught up after two months of visiting Eddie at least once every few days.

"What about Ana?"

"We broke up two months ago, man."

"And Taylor?"

"Dude, we never started dating in the first place." The exasperation was clear in Buck's voice. "She's really just a friend."

Chimney nodded, satisfied for the time being. They had no doubt that there would be more questions later.

"When did this even happen?" Hen asked this time, walking over with Christopher.

"Two months ago," Chris answered before either of them could, smiling a little too innocently. "A week or something after Dad broke up with Miss Flores."

Eddie had no idea Christopher knew that level of details, but he had definitely been out of it when he told him. Maybe he said more than he remembered.

"Well," Bobby finally spoke up, walking over to their little family unit on the couch, now that Christopher was tucked on Eddie's other side. "I'm happy for you two." Eddie could feel whatever tension had been on Buck's body (not that there was much in the first place) drain out of him at Bobby's words. "And we can deal with HR and paperwork once you're back at the station," he added, directed at Eddie. Bobby's smile was genuinely warm, putting him even further at ease.

Years in the making. Maybe it was obvious to everyone else, but Eddie wouldn't change a thing about the road they took to get here. It had been hard and full of hurt, but what they had was solid and them and it was definitely worth it all.

Including the cheering, clapping, and whistles of everyone else when Buck pressed a kiss to his lips right there and then simply because he could.

#9-1-1 #Evan Buckley #Eddie Diaz #9-1-1 on fox #buddie #my writing #911 #911 on fox #I have no idea how many words this is #it just happened #WeresWriting

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whatdoesshedotothem · 2 years

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Tuesday 6 December 1836

7 ¾

12 ½

No kiss fine morning - out at 8 ¾ for ½ hour with Robert Mann + 3 - the upper pool had given way - had the water the let out - breakfast in ½ hour at 9 ¼ - then out again - had Booth about the cellar passage - 2 masons (James and Abraham) hewing the pilasters for it - with Robert Mann + 3 from 10 to 11 pulling up the middle pool and setting it out in a new form - had Womersley from 11 to 12 - could not get him to say what he would bid for the stone per yard - the quantity so small did not mind for a shilling or 2 a yard - but if more than 5/. per yard it would be more than it was worth - no stone below the mare - then owned there was cutting stone blow it but it would not pay - on mentioning my uncle Joseph W- said yes! he (my uncle Joseph) used to say there was stone below the mare, and it went as low as Dumb mill - proof my uncle thought there was good stone below the mare - W- would like to buy a DW- of me, along the west side of the Long field - would give me £500 down for i t- at last, got him to point out where the stone to be let should be set out - finding that I wanted it at the dip skirt for the sake of getting the water off and getting the stone right before me, he agreed this would be best - said I should get the bills out as soon as I could, and should probably have the letting on Monday at 6 pm at the Stump X - 400 yards to be set out - 2 years term - baring stuff to go down towards Thumpers well - to be held up by a good burr wall 2 yards thick at the bottom 1 yard from below the fence into the lane - top soil of the 400 yards to be laid up conventionally for re-soiling over the ground after the stone is got - and the top soil to be taken off where the baring stuff is laid and reserved and put on again - tickets for the farm to be given in at the same time for the farm as it is except gates and fences being put in a tenantable repair - Mrs. Hall against Mrs. Machans selling the farm - so an end of selling now - Womersley will leave the farm if no repairs are done - and says nobody else will give more than £40 per annum (he pays £50) - kept Robert M- to come till 12 ½ placing the best stone we had - 2 or 3 taken up from just above the drain mouth into the pool - hurried the men from dinner in from ½ hour to 40 minutes - told Robert to take all hands to Mytholm quarry tomorrow to get stone and kept him and the 3 others all the afternoon making up the rock-capped knowl above the pool and sodding up about the drain mouth opposite the archway - stood musing till I could see nothing - came in at 5 ½ - (A- had been at Mr. Gilmore’s from 10 55 to 4) George brought back the letters - dressed - read my letter from Mrs. Sutherland (Udale house Fortrose Rosshshire) thanks for the ring - and read my letter (3 pp. of ½ sheet) from M- Dr. Belcombe York - Mr. Lawton too ill to move sooner but had not been in any danger - M- too had been indisposed as also Mrs. Milne and all the party more or less - ½ York in bed from illness - the L-s and Mrs. M- will sleep at Halifax tomorrow and M- begs me to order beds at the White Lion - wrote note to for this purpose to ‘Miss Jenkinson White Lion Halifax’ which went by Frank tonight - dinner at 6 40 - coffee upstairs - A- read French - Dobson came about 8 ½ and staid an hour - told him what had passed about the quarry - he approved the setting out - the letting being on Monday - I should be on the spot on Thursday morning to set out the 400 yards - he begged there might be no burr wall - no rag - nothing to build it with - sure the stuff might be laid without wall - said I would see about it - I said people were at liberty to bid as they chose - it was my wish for the person who took the stone now to go on with it and get the whole - should good stone be found beneath the mare, I should want a reasonable price in addition for it hereafter - did not wish for another public letting - but nothing would be publically said about this - 400 yards of ground would be staked out, and nobody bound to anything further - wrote all the above of today till 10 ½ - F48 ½° now at 10 55 pm

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starkercrossedlovers · 4 years

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My Baby Shot Me Down

“You nervous?”

Tony shakes his head; he’s not, not really. He’s ready—has been for awhile now.

“You sure? I could give you a moral boosting blow job if you are.”

Tony grins outright at that and shakes his head, “Save it for after I make it through a whole set,” he suggests before leaning in for a kiss from his husband.

Peter grins into the kiss and then nudges him forward toward the chanting crowds just beyond the curtain.

“Knock em dead baby.”

Tony grins and winks at him before strapping on his Fender Stevie Ray Vaughn Stratocaster and sauntering out on stage to wild screams of his name.

Iron Man Iron Man Iron Man

Peter grins and shakes his head, stepping closer so he can watch the comeback concert of a lifetime.

Tony is a force to be reckoned with on stage—he always has been—but this, this is something entirely different. He moves with a passion that Peter hasn’t seen since he first saw Tony perform all those years ago when they were both younger and wild, foolhardy on love and rock and roll.

Tony’s hair is greyer now, there are more lines around his eyes and mouth but if the screams of his name that are reverberating through the voices of twenty thousand fans are any indicator--he hasn’t lost any of his appeal.

Peter watches as Tony croons and saunters, hips swinging as he sings, winking at the screaming fans with an extra gyration of his hips that leaves them in vapors and has Peter’s blood simmering lowly.

Tony transitions to one of his new songs and the crowd goes wild before quieting slightly, watching rapturously as Tony plays and sings his heart out.

Can't fight the temptation

When you get the vibration

Tony gyrates on the lyric and shoots a grin toward Peter, winking when the fans scream--their relationship is well known and fans loved seeing them together on stage in the past.

Won't do you no good

It won't do you no good

You better start running

When you hear the man coming

Won't do you no good

It won't do you no good

No we don't mind

If you don't mind

Hell I never mind

The wail of the guitar and Tony’s yowl sends the audience into a frenzy, cheering and clapping along with the beat.

In between songs Tony talks to the audience, laughing and telling stories and then, toward the end, he grows solemn, telling them of his time in rehab, of his struggle with depression, of his attempt to take his life and the darkness that had consumed his mind.

Peter’s eyes fill with tears and a lump grows in his throat as Tony lays himself bare for all to see, stripping his barriers away until all that’s left is the man and not the mask he’d worn for so many years.

Tony transitions to the final song, a slow, aching rendition of Bang Bang (My Baby Shot Me Down) and Peter shifts, eager for the concert to be over so he can congratulate his husband properly.

Bang bang, he shot me down

Bang bang, I hit the ground

Bang bang, that awful sound

Bang bang, my baby shot me down

When Tony finishes the song the crowd goes wild once more and Peter waits patiently for Tony to sing two more songs for an encore before he too is dragged out on stage to join Tony in a stirring rendition of I Can’t Go on Without You that leaves him breathless and near tears when it’s over.

Tony signs autographs after at his meet and greet while Peter waits, not so patiently for it to be done and then its a short ride back to their penthouse apartment and Peter shoves Tony back against the door when it closes, mouth hungry and hot on Tony’s.

Tony’s hands slide down his back and grab his ass, grinding their hips together so the friction burns and aches, his cock throbbing in his jeans as Tony groans and licks into his mouth desperately.

They stumble toward their bedroom, stripping clothing as they go and Peter laughs softly as they knock into the walls and bounce off the door frame before collapsing onto the bed. Peter gasps softly as their cocks slide alongside each other, running his fingers through Tony’s silvery hair, gripping it hard when Tony sucks a mark on his throat.

“You were so hot tonight babe,” he gasps out, arching as Tony licks over a nipple.

“Couldn’t have done it without you,” Tony murmurs in reply, lips brushing over Peter’s hip bone.

Peter’s words die as Tony licks up the underside of his cock, eyes dark and hungry and rimmed in khol that makes him look even hotter than he does normally. Fuck it drives Peter crazy sometimes how hot his husband is--it doesn’t matter that they’re both in their 40’s now and that their bodies are slowing down or that his knees creak when he gives Tony a blow job--he adores his husband, grey hairs and all.

Tony shifts around so his knees bracket Peter’s head and he leans up eagerly, sucking at the head of Tony’s cock, hands sliding up the backs of his thighs in long slow strokes, groaning when Tony mimics him and sucks hard on Peter’s cock.

They rock into each other slowly; Tony takes him deeper into his throat and swallows before backing off and focusing on the head, his tongue flicking against the sensitive skin as he pumps the remainder of Peter’s cock, the foreskin a smooth glide that makes Peter’s gut burn.

Peter pulls off Tony’s cock and sucks on two fingers, wetting them thoroughly before he rubs them against Tony’s hole--Tony’s groan loud as Peter swallows the head of Tony’s cock again. He rubs and presses on Tony’s hole as he flicks his tongue against the slit, groaning at the salty taste of Tony’s cum.

The slick sound of their mouths and the wet gagging makes Peter writhe--he loves this, loves fucking his husband, making him shake and groan and come apart so gorgeously. He can feel Tony’s thigh shaking under his palm, hips rolling into Peter’s mouth and fingers, his moans growing sharper and more desperate.

The vibration around Peter’s cock is enough to make him arch and whine, he’s so close, so ready to tip over, but he wants Tony’s taste on his tongue when he does. He lets Tony’s cock slip from his mouth and wets his fingers again with spit before pushing against Tony’s hole firmly, working them inside the way he knows Tony likes--slow and firm so he can savor the burn.

Tony cries out sharply and bucks into the touch, choking on Peter’s cock it sounds like, and then Peter leans up and sucks down his cock in return and its not long after that that Tony comes with a wet rasping sound, whining deep in his throat as his hole clenches around Peter’s fingers and his cock spills down Peter’s throat.

Peter follows him over that edge too, shuddering and gasping, almost too sensitive as Tony sucks the very tip of his cock, swallowing down spurt after spurt till he’s got nothing left and the pleasure edges into something too sharp for him to take.

They collapse, limbs tangled and sweaty, chests heaving and exhaustion making it that much harder to find the will to move. Eventually they do though; Tony lays his head on Peter’s chest, eyes slitted barely open like a giant cat--nearly purring as Peter runs his fingers through Tony’s sweaty hair.

“Tonight was good.”

Peter nods, “You were amazing Tones. I’m so proud.”

He smiles softly when Tony cranes his neck to look up at him, face open and vulnerable. No one else gets to see him like this--what he shows on stage is something close, but this, this is just for Peter.

For them.

He takes Tony’s wrist and rubs his thumb over the tattoo there--it’s a triangle within a circle, glowing softly with blue light and within the edges of the circle it says Proof Peter Stark Has a Heart

It matches the one on Peter’s wrist, only his reads a little differently.

Proof Tony Stark Has a Heart

Everywhere he goes, he carries Tony’s heart, and Tony has his.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

I know it’s been a minute since I wrote starker, and this isn’t long or that elaborate, but I really enjoyed the idea. I was driving home from work and No Good by Kaleo came on and the idea hit me and I had to write it lol I hope you check out all the songs and fall in love with Kaleo because they certainly deserve it!! Anyway, enjoy!

#starker #nff #tony stark x peter parker #starcrossedwrites #rock star!tony #manager!peter

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automatismoateo · 5 years

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Christian lady assaulted me for not believing in God. via /r/atheism

Submitted May 17, 2019 at 01:50AM by _Empy (Via reddit http://bit.ly/30nmcbM) Christian lady assaulted me for not believing in God.

(sorry for bad spelling or improper grammar use I have dyslexia)

So a few weeks ago I was walking home from school and decided to stop at a gas station to get a snack. After I bought the snack I started eating it at a table right outside the gas station. While I was eating I was scrolling through this subreddit when a lady (I’d say about 40 years of age) walked past me and for whatever reason was looking at my phone and I guess saw the word atheist on it.

Apparently she knows about Reddit and this subreddit in particular. This is the conversation followed:

Lady: “Excuse me sir, is that the atheist reddit thing?”

Me: ”Yes. Why?”

Lady: ”You really shouldn’t be reading that kid of stuff. God is watching you.”

Me: “I don’t really believe in God.”

Lady: “Why not?”

Me: “There is no proof that he exists.”

Lady: “The bible is proof.”

Me: “No not really. There is no proof that he wrote it.”

Lady: “You shouldn’t be so arrogant, you can still change if you believe.”

Me: “Nah, I think that Christianity and all other religions are kind of ridiculous.”

Lady (sounding a little annoyed/angry): “Why do you think that Christianity is ridiculous?”

Me: “Because people pray to a higher being without any proof that this being exists, asking to forgive them for their sins and hopefully let them into heaven without having any proof that it existed either. It just all seems silly to me.”

Lady (now sounding noticeably angry): “God is real. You just don’t want to believe in him.”

Me: “If God is real, why do things like cancer exist? If God made everything, he made cancer as well and that does nothing except hurt people.”

Lady: “God made cancer as a way to test peoples worth. That’s all life is; a test. People that try hard enough and believe in him can pull through. You just have to believe and he will save you.”

Me: “My grandma believed in God, but she still died of cancer.”

Lady: “It’s because you don’t believe in him.”

Me: “So you’re saying it’s my fault that my grandma died?”

Lady: “Yes, if more people close to you’re grandma believed in God, his force would have grown stronger on your family and he would have saved her.”

At this point she just sounds completely ridiculous. So I hit her with some argument points that I thought of incase I ever where to get into an argument with a Christian.

Me: “So if you believe in God and try hard enough, your life will get better?”

Lady: “Yes, of course.”

Me: “So are the starving and impoverished families in third world countries that can barely survive and believe in God just not trying hard enough?”

Lady: “Oh I’m sure they’re trying hard enough. God just made that their fate. He has a reason to. He has a reason for everything he does. He has a reason for letting your grandma die.”

Me: “Well that sound kind of evil for him to make those peoples lives like that and not help them.”

The conversation/argument was going on for about 5 minutes when one the employees of the gas station (this big buff dude in his mid 30’s) walked up to us and asked what was going on. I guess because he saw this lady standing over a little teenager for a few minutes he decided to intervene. When the employee asked what was going on she told him that I was “harassing” her for not believing in God. He looked at me, back at her, and laughed.

Cue the continuation of this drama fest.

Employee: “He isn’t harassing you, ma’am. He can believe whatever he wants, I don’t think ‘harassment’ would be the right word to use either.”

Lady: “It bothers me that he doesn’t believe and respect the thing that created him. He should be grateful.”

Me: “If God created me then why should I be grateful considering he gave me dyslexia, ADHD, depression, anxiety and other mental disorders that makes my life harder that it should be. If he’s real, why do those things even exist in the first place?”

Lady (now yelling): “You shut up! You’re disrespecting our lord! You’re going strait to Hell!”

Other people at the gas station started to gather around to see what was going on.

Employee: “Ma’am please stop yelling, you’re making a scene.”

A few of the people that have gathered around tried to calm her down. One woman said that she’s Christian, but lets other people believe in what they want. The lady walked up to her, got into her face and started screaming at her saying how she’s betraying God and such.

Employee: “Ma’am please step way from her and stop yelling or I’ll have to call the cops.”

The lady turned around and smacked the employee in the face with her purse. It didn’t really do anything to him since he so beefy, but he grabbed her and told one of the bystanders to call the police. The lady was squirming around and flailing her purse in the air to try to get out of the employees grasp. In doing so she ended up smacking me in the lip with one of the metal buttons on her purse and I started bleeding. One gentleman handed me a napkin to wipe up the blood when a cop car arrived.

The officer stepped out the the car, quickly ran over to the crowd and hustled the lady on the ground. When she was in handcuffs the officer started asking questions about what happened. Everyone stood up for me saying how the lady was screaming and hitting people with her purse. She was put into the back of the cop car and driven away.

About a week later the employee, a few of the bystanders and I had to go to court and testify against her. In court the lady tried to pull the whole “God spoke to me and told me to do it.” BS. We easily won and she got charged with assault, assault on a minor and a few other things. The gas station owner (who wasn’t present at the time of the incident) found out and gave me a bunch of snacks and drinks from the store as an apology. I said the apology was unnecessary, but he insisted so accepted it. All in all, it was a pretty interesting experience.

TL;DR: Christian lady assaulted me and ended up getting charged.

#reddit

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matthewkane-blog1 · 7 years

Text

Chapter 1

A/N: This story was derived from a fanfic I wrote a long time ago (which no one will ever find if I have a say in it). I will attempt to actually finish this story and not leave it hanging. Also, any art in this story is NOT mine. I mostly got it by googling concept art. All the credit goes to the artists. Enjoy. ———————————————- Zarvion, The Wicker’s Forest, 19:34 PM

-Mefira-

‘Why did I think this would be a good idea?’ She lamented as she ran, narrowly dodging yet another projectile. Sparing a quick glance behind her, she could see an entire squadron of stone golems preparing a new round, ripping chunks of rock out of the ground and taking aim. Gathering up a fireball in her own hands, she quickly chucked it at one of the things, relishing in the sound of the small explosion upon impact.

Getting ready to dodge again, she was a bit taken aback at feeling a strong gust of wind and seeing the new volley fly back towards the attackers. Moments after, Xenos popped up on her left, giving her a jaunty salute and a cheeky grin. The girl just rolled her eyes at him, before angrily stating: “Could you please save the flirting for when we’re not in mortal danger?”

The male just gave a short laugh, before deflecting another volley. Mefira could already see the ship up ahead.

They were so close.

Looking backwards once more, she froze up when she saw a dark form practically oozing out of the ground behind the golems, taking the appearance of a young woman, dressed in flowing black garments, and with no visible legs, seemingly just floating in mid air.

A pair of empty purple eyes seemed to pierce her soul, the creature giving her a distorted grin that chilled the girl to her very core.

“LOOK OUT!” She heard Xenos shout. Glancing upwards, she saw an immense boulder flying straight towards her.

2 months earlier…

Fancy meeting you here

Alnoa, Sector 14, 14:50 AM

-Mefira-

“And if you listen closely, you can hear the engine sputtering; an obvious sign that there is a problem with the fuel line.”

Their mechanics teacher, droned on, causing Mefira to inwardly groan. How long was this going to take? Glancing at the clock, she saw that they only had about 10 minutes left before class ended. Why did the last minutes always seem the longest?

“Miss Bael!” Mrs. Treol snapped “would you care to repeat what I just explained to the rest of the class?” Great… The girl thought. Couldn’t leave me alone for ten more minutes, could you? She wracked her brains trying to remember whatever boring tidbit the woman at the desk had oh so generously bestowed upon them.

“Umm… The engine…has to… Like… Sputter in a certain way for it to work properly?” Judging from the giggles coming from several other students, and Mrs. Treol’s annoyed glare, she had definitely screwed up.

“Wrong, Miss Bael. Maybe you will be able to remember today’s lesson if you have a nice, quiet environment to study in. Like detention. For a smart girl like you, I’m sure it won’t take more than four hours.” the woman spoke, a malicious glint in her eye.

Mefira barely held herself from screaming in frustration. This was the third time this week. Her parents weren’t going be happy. But then again, they hardly were with anything she did these days.

Was it really her fault if she couldn’t concentrate on all the technological stuff they learned day in and day out at school? As the old hag went on about next week’s assignment, Mefira tiredly laid her head on her desk, wondering again how this was her life.

Mefira made her way to the appointed classroom, mentally preparing herself for a few hours of pure boredom. Opening the door, she could instantly see that the usual culprits were already there. There were only a few students who regularly wound up in detention, and it seemed that they were all in their regular places today.

“Have they read you your rights?” Zera Amel asked, giving a sardonic grin. Mefira took a couple of seconds to study her appearance. Long, straight, hazel hair, with the ever present purple strand tucked behind her right ear. Her eyes, bearing the same color as her streak, were dull with boredom, but still held a glimmer of mischief.

Mefira had always wanted to have purple eyes, instead of the light pink color she was sporting. But, like her mother said, pink was the color any true lady should display.

Talking a moment to analyze Zera’s clothes, she could see the girl had her her trademark ripped jeans on, along with her black hoodie and combat boots, giving her the look of someone you would usually find threatening people at knifepoint in a dark alley. 'Which for all intents and purposes she probably is’ Mefira thought to herself.

Seeing her dainty form, however, made a lot of people underestimate her. Not to mention several guys at school that used to follow her around. 'Used to’ being the key words here. Zera had made it brutally clear she wasn’t interested in dating.

“Let me guess; the toilet paper incident this morning was your doing?” Mefira asked, carding a hand through her own wavy golden locks. Zera was notorious for her pranks that usually got out of hand. “You know me so well.” she responded, her grin turning smug and self satisfied.

At the desk behind Zera sat Magnus Neryl, who usually wound up in detention for doodling sketches of plants and animals during class instead of paying attention. The teachers always confiscated his holopads, but he had plenty of spares. Already he was hard at work drawing an image of a firefly flower, and writing down some of its characteristics.

Hunched over his desk, he looked rather ridiculous with his body mass dwarfing the small table and chair. He had the appearance of a jock, with a built physique. This was usually accentuated by a tight shirt and equally form fitting pants. Dark hair framed his handsome face, and intense forest green eyes were filled with concentration on the drawing.

Still, the effect was lost when you actually got to know him. He was rather scatterbrained, losing focus on anything not related to biology or medicine.

And as far as Mefira knew, he was a total klutz in anything from sports to day to day activities. She lost count of how many times he’d tripped when one of his shoelaces got untied.

And finally, there was Xenos Nuran. The person most likely to take up the career path of a cat burglar.

He usually got detention for sneaking around everywhere he wasn’t supposed to. From the teacher’s lounge -where he stole the subject for a final and distributed it to the whole class-, to the principal’s office, where he actually took a picture with the man sleeping, then posted it on the Extranet.

He had slightly curly platinum blonde hair, with gray eyes, and a lean build, sporting black pants along with a white T-shirt that hugged his body quite nicely, and a pair of comfortable sandals, that helped him walk quietly on multiple occasions.

“And here I was wondering how photos of the girl’s locker room ended up online.” she muttered, only receiving a crooked grin and a wink in return. “At least I didn’t post any photos of you, princess. I gotta have some class.” he defended good-naturedly.

Despite all their flaws and downright creepy behavior, Mefira could honestly say that these were her only actual friends, who didn’t think of her as a dumb blonde, who doesn’t know how an engine works. Spending up to ten hours a week with someone in a room really created bonds, apparently.

As she sat down, she noticed the robot standing in front of the holoboard, set to automatically activate when detention would start.

“Wait, didn’t you wreck two of these things already?” She asked, confused. It was incredible how Zera could destroy something, and then make it look like a complete accident.

“Yeah, but they got a new and 'improved’ version. One that’s apparently impervious to 'random malfunctions’.” Xenos answered.

“By now, 'malfunction’ is pretty much codename for 'we know you tampered with it but we have no proof’.” Magnus absently commented, not looking up from his drawing.

“You’d think they would just place a teacher here instead.” Mefira mumbled.

“Please!” Zera huffed a laugh “No sane person would hold out being in a room with all of us for this long.” “True” she conceded.

As the bell rang, the robot powered up, fixing them with a blank gaze.

“Greetings, juvenile delinquents. I am disciplinary automaton version 3. You may refer to me as DA-V3, or Dave. Please take your seats, and keep quiet. Detention will end in: 3 hours, 59 minutes, and 40 seconds.”

“Well, looks like it’s gonna be a fun couple of hours…” Xenos growled under his breath.

#TDN #Magic #Adventure #Humor

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